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MEDITATIONS 



Death and Eternity 



V 







TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 

BY 

FREDERICA ROWAN 




BOSTON 
TICKNOR AND FIELDS 
1864 









University Press: 

Welch, Bigelow, and Company, 

Cambridge. 



The Library 
of Congress 



mmmmmmmmmm 

WASHINGTON 



FIFTH ID IT! ON. 



NOTE 

TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 



• 



HE circumstances under which this 
volume has been produced are very 
|jw||^: peculiar. A favorite book with his 
^P|||§^=Jt late Royal Highness the Prince Con- 
sort was the well-known German work Stun- 
den der Andacht, which is generally ascribed to 
Zschokke. Some of these Meditations were 
frequently read by him, as though he had a pre- 
sentiment of his early death. After that sad 
event the book naturally became more than ever 
endeared to the Queen, who solaced herself by 
making a selection of the greater favorites ; these 
she employed Miss Rowan to translate, and had 
them printed in a volume, of which a small num- 
ber of copies were circulated, with a notice that 
the " Meditations " had " been selected for trans- 
lation by one to whom, in deep and overwhelming 
sorrow, they had. proved a source of comfort and 
edification. " As the volume is one so eminently 
calculated to answer this end, it was evident that 
a much wider circulation was desirable than at 



iv NOTE. 

first contemplated, and accordingly Her Majesty- 
was pleased to give her permission to that effect. 

The volume is now republished in America, 
where so many afflicted hearts need consolation. 
It is believed that these " Meditations " will carry 
comfort wherever they are read. 





Original Preface. 

HE Meditations contained in this volume 
form part of the well-known German 
devotional work Stunden der Andacht, 
published in the beginning of the present cen- 
tury, and generally ascribed to Zschokke. 

They have been selected for translation by 
one * to whom, in deep and overwhelming sor- 
row, they have proved a source of comfort and 
edification. 

London, June, 1862. 



'translator s Note. 

ER MAJESTY having graciously grant- 
ed her permission to publish these se- 
lections, (originally printed for private 

circulation only,) the Translator now presents 

them to the general public. 

* Queen Victoria. 




'fable of Contents, 



Page 
Is Slow Decline or Sudden Death most desirable? . 1 

Fear of Death. Part 1 14 

Fear of Death. Part II 28 

God is Love 42 

The Consolation of the Patient Sufferer ... 56 

The Sick 71 

A Foretaste of Heaven. Part I. . . . . .84 

A Foretaste of Heaven. Part n. .... 96 

The World a Mirror of Eternity 108 

The Existence of Angels 123 

Death is my Gain 138 

Eternal Destiny. Part 1 152 

Eternal Destiny. Part II. 164 

The Destination of Man 176 

Immortality 193 

Why must the Future Life be hidden from us? . 206 

A Joy in the Hour of Death 221 

Thoughts at the Graves of those we love . . 234 

The Thought of Eternity 248 

Interpretations of Eternity: — 

I. Going in to the Father 262 

H. The Future Life 278 

III. Retribution 294 

IV. Reunion 312 

V. Reunion 329 

VI. Reunion 343 

Memorial Festival of our Triumph over Death . 358 

The Triumph of Holiness 370 

The Connection between Life and Eternity . . 385 

Glorification after Death 401 



Meditations. 



IS SLOW DECLINE OR SUDDEN DEATH 
MOST DESIRABLE? 



Saviour ! by thy death- wound's power, . 
Strengthen me, when that blest hour, 
Which weigheth crowns of victory, 
To my death-bed draweth nigh. 

Then peace, with soft and silent wing, 
Round my couch thy shadow fling. 
Ghost of my sins ! avoid the bed 
Where I, dying, rest my head, 
While the fading life-light pales 
As my quivering eyesight fails. 

Come, my angel, from God's throne, 
Bring me my celestial crown ; 
Then waft me, with thy waving palm, 
To heavenly joys, and angel calm. 

(Matthew vii. 20, 21.) 

HAT a painful shock do we not all 

experience at the intelligence of the 

sudden death of a friend, or even of 

a mere acquaintance, whom we may 

have seen and spoken to but a few hours or a few 

1 A 







2 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

days before, and whom we believe to be in good 
health ! We are struck with terror ; we find it 
difficult to realize the fact ; it seems to us incom- 
prehensible, impossible; it is as though we had 
expected that God, the Ruler of life and death, 
would, in regard to us and all that concerns us 
in this world, have made a merciful exception to 
the general course of things. 

But what is it that terrifies us ? It seems to us 
dreadful that a human being should, unexpectedly 
and without any preparation, be torn from amid all 
his plans and projects, and be ushered into another 
world. We at once picture to ourselves in im- 
agination our own soul in the place of that of the 
departed person, and feel the silent awe with which 
it must be seized at the mighty change that has 
been wrought in the course of a few seconds, 
when it finds itself, without any forewarning, drift- 
ing away from its common occupations into the 
unknown world beyond the grave. We shudder 
at such parting without leave-taking, without the 
last pressure of the hand of affection. 

Different are the impressions produced by the 
spectacle of the slow extinction of one whose illness 
can only end in death. It is true, that in such 
case we are better prepared for the loss we are to 
sustain ; but, nevertheless, the slightest sign of 
improvement revives our hope that the malady 
will not prove fatal, and the dearer to us the per- 
son who seems about to depart, the more willingly, 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 3 

the more fervently, do we give ourselves up to 
hope. And when death does ensue, our grief is 
not the less poignant because we might have been 
prepared for all that was to come. It is true, that 
the sufferings of the sick are seldom as intense as 
our heated and self-torturing imaginations depict 
them to us ; but who can watch the formerly so 
blooming, and now so emaciated form, the pale 
cheek and sunken eye, without being moved with 
deep pity? Who can listen to his groans and 
sighs, to the quick, feeble, or heavy breathing, 
without wishing that a merciful God would soon 
put an end to this state, and give the sufferer rest 
in that sleep of death which is, after all, inevitable ? 

Thus we are terrified by sudden death, while 
we are pained by the spectacle of slow decline. 

But which of these would be the most desirable, 
if wishing could be of any avail, when the goal of 
every hope and every desire has been irrevocably 
fixed ? Is sudden or slow death to be preferred ? 

This is a question which at first sight, indeed, 
seems idle, as our opinions can have no effect upon 
that which must and will take place. But never- 
theless the subject has great attractions for every 
mind, and to meditate upon it cannot fail to be 
instructive and consolatory, if it tend to destroy 
the many prejudices which are entertained in re- 
gard to it. 

For instance, are there not many mortals who 
look upon sudden death as the greatest of evils, 



4 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

because they believe that whosoever is thus strick- 
en down is carried away in the midst of sins, 
which he has not had time to repent of, to eternal 
damnation ? Are there not many who for this 
reason in particular pray to God to deliver them 
from sudden death ? 

But such belief can hardly be other than the fruit 
of superstition and of an unworthy conception of 
the greatness and justice of God. For if sudden 
death were in reality the greatest of evils, how 
could God — whose children we all are, to whose 
grace and mercy we all lay claim — favor some 
human beings in this most important matter, (if it 
be really so,) and not others? When an earth- 
quake or a flood suddenly destroys with one swoop 
hundreds of lives, are there not likely to be among 
the number as many virtuous and upright men as 
there are deep-dyed sinners ? If sudden death 
were the direst of misfortunes, would not an 
all-merciful God in distributing it exercise some 
discrimination ? What have the millions who 
breathe out their lives slowly on a bed of sickness 
done to deserve their being thus favor.ed? 

We may indeed say to ourselves, — On the bed 
of sickness the evil-doer has time to repent of his 
sins, and to turn anew to God. But are we not 
all sinners? And if repentance, brought about 
by the fear of death, can set everything right 
again, would it not be opposed to the Divine love 
of God, which embraces all alike with fatherly ten- 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 5 

derness, if be were to deny this happiness to many 
thousands while he granted it to others ? Would 
even an earthly father, a human mother, exercise 
such injustice towards their children ? No ; your 
conceptions of the highest of all beings are faulty, 
because you entertain erroneous views of the value 
of death-bed repentance. When a criminal in his 
prison cell, full of fear of the coming punishment, 
repents of his misdeeds, would you at once place 
him in moral worth on a level with the most pious 
and virtuous of men ? If a child, who has long 
caused you sorrow by its disobedience and mani- 
fold naughtinesses, perceiving that you are at last 
determined to put a stop to the evil and to carry 
out the threatened punishment, burst into tears 
and repent because of its fear of chastisement, 
w r ould you reward it in the same way, bestow 
upon it the same pleasures, as upon the docile, in- 
dustrious child, who, looking up to you with tender 
love, has always obeyed your will ? Your sense 
of justice would recoil from this. Then how can 
you suppose the All- Just One to be less just than 
you would be ? How can repentance, born of the 
terror of the moment, be of the same value as 
a life virtuous throughout ? Christ himself has, 
with deep earnestness, warned us against this error. 
Neither tears, nor words, nor prayers, will avail, 
but deeds, works of penitence! "Wherefore by 
their fruits ye shall know them ! " Saith the 
Lord, " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord J 



6 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

Lord ! shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, bui 
those who do the will of my Father which is in 
heaven!" (Matt. vii. 20, 21.) 

Sudden death is not, therefore, to be feared as 
the greatest of misfortunes, because it deprives us 
of the opportunity and of the time necessary to 
express our repentance and to utter a few prayers. 
The Divine Son did not teach, Repent at the 
hour of death ; but he said, " Whoever takes up 
my cross during his lifetime, and follows me, he is 
my disciple ! " "Be perfect, as your Father in 
heaven is perfect." But such perfection cannot 
be attained when sickness has worn down our 
strength, but only by persevering struggles against 
our sensual desires, by self-consecration according 
to the words and spirit of Jesus. 

If, then, it be blameworthy to fear sudden 
death for the reasons assigned, it is no doubt 
equally blameworthy to wish for it from sheer 
cowardice. For, in reality, what can it be but 
cowardice or fear of the sufferings of a deadly 
malady, and the approach of death itself, that 
makes so many wish to be carried off as quickly 
as possible, when their time shall come ? To live 
to endure adversity requires greater courage than 
at once to seek death. Of all the circumstances 
that dishonor the suicide, there is none that adds 
so much to the baseness of his dastardly deed as 
his dread of life. For this reason it was that 
Divine wisdom implanted so deeply in the breast 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 7 

of man the love of life and the fear of death, — 
that the weak and timid race, overwhelmed by its 
earthly trials, might not fly too soon to seek ref- 
uge in the grave. Those trials and sufferings 
were necessary to turn away the mind from sen- 
sual objects, and to lift it up and make it grasp 
higher ones ; but the love of life was not the less 
necessary. Without these fetters, large countries 
would often have been converted into deserts, and 
the ends of God and the destiny of man would 
have remained unfulfilled. 

The wise man will see the same reasons for 
deeming a slow as a rapid death desirable ; but he 
will never see cause to fear either. For he knows 
the Lord that created him ; he knows the voice of 
the Lord, who speaks to us even in the hour of 
death, saying, " Fear not ; for I have redeemed 
thee, I have called thee by thy name ; thou art 
mine." (Isaiah xliii. 1.) 

Fear not death, whether it come early or late ; 
whether it come slowly, through the exhaustion 
of illness, or the decay of age ; or suddenly, in 
the strength and enjoyment of life, or on the field 
of battle, or by some extraordinary and unforeseen 
occurrence. For thou mayst indeed look forward 
to death, as at night we look forward to sleep ; 
but thou wilt not know when it comes, as little as 
thou art conscious of the exact moment when 
thou sinkest into sleep. They who shall see thee 
die will be conscious of it, and shudder. They 



8 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

shudder because the love of life, with which God 
has inspired all creatures, recoils from that which 
is parting from life. But thou wilt as little see 
thyself die as tnou hast ever seen thyself fall 
asleep. Thou seest not the film gathering over 
thine eyes, thou art not alarmed at the increasing 
pallor of thy face, at the coldness of thy limbs, 
which fill the imagination of those who surround 
thee with dismal images. 

Fear not thy dissolution, for thou knowest who 
has redeemed thee : it is Christ Jesus who has 
shown thee the way to heaven, and who has re- 
vealed to thee the will of the Father; by doing 
which faithfully thy spirit will be ennobled and 
rendered worthy of entering into a realm of glory. 
Thou knowest, when thine hour cometh, who it is 
that has called thee by thy name, and has said, 
" Thou art mine ! " It is the almighty, the all- 
loving Father, who has created thee, who has 
singled thee out, not for eternal suffering and 
destruction, but for eternal bliss. 

Fear not then, even shouldst thine end be rapid. 
Constant and exaggerated terror of death is not 
only unworthy of a Christian, but even of a hea- 
then ; for this useless self-torture is in itself more 
painful than death can ever be. It wears out the 
spirit, deprives us of all capacity for joy, — which 
is in reality the true supporter of health and life, 
— weakens the body, and hastens the approach of 
death, while we are endeavoring to flee from it. 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 9 

It is well known that fear is one of the most dan- 
gerous poisoners of life. Fear is in itself deadly, 
life-consuming. He who is ever dreading death 
dies a thousand times, and suffers each day of his 
life, while when death is really at hand he will 
not be conscious of its coming. 

Therefore, cheer up, divert thy mind, occupy 
thy fancy with other images ; for it is only thy 
diseased imagination that conjures up before thee 
these dismal shadows, not thy rational conviction. 
Try to turn aside thy thoughts, which are so prone 
to cling to this painful subject, because thou hast 
too often led them in this direction. Every cheer- 
ful hour that thou enjoy est is a healing draught, 
and adds to the length of thy days. 

Fear not death, should it even be thy lot to die 
suddenly. Who knows what his end may be? 
Who can in any way foretell whether he may not 
be cut off by a fire, by the falling of a tile from a 
roof, by a cannon-ball, by an attack of apoplexy, 
or by some other untoward accident ? Therefore, 
prepare thy house, keep thy domestic affairs, thy 
worldly concerns, in order, so that, if thou be 
called away suddenly from the midst of thy 
friends, everything shall be found after thy disso- 
lution arranged with such perfect care, that there 
shall be no neglected parts, no confusion. The 
praise of the living will follow thee ; the blessings 
of thy loved ones will reach thee in the eternal 
abodes ; thou wilt have fulfilled one of the most 
1 * 



10 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

sacred duties towards those who are bound to thee 
by the ties of blood. We may always take it for 
granted, that he who kept his domestic affairs in 
order was found prepared in those more impor- 
tant matters also that lay between him and God. 
Live and act each day so that after thy death, 
were it even to take place the next minute, thy 
family shall not be left in want, and no blame shall 
attach to thy name. For the good name of the 
departed must ever be the most blessed inherit- 
ance to those he leaves behind. Arrange thy 
affairs so that they may at any moment be laid 
before the eyes of strangers, as is always more or 
less the case after our demise. 

Prepare thy house ! If thou leadest at all 
times a life of piety, innocence, benevolence, full 
of active well-doing, and free from hatred or 
anger, such as Jesus thy Saviour taught thee, 
then sudden death can only be to thee a sudden 
benefit. Why shouldst thou dread to appear be- 
fore God ? Art thou not ever in his presence ? 
Hast thou not been, even from thy birth, one of 
his children, whom he holds in his arms, whom 
he watches over and protects ? True, thou 
tremblest before his judgment. He knows thy 
shortcomings ; but he knows also thy earnest 
efforts to correct them. He sees also the honest 
fight which, in order to be worthy of him, thou 
fightest against the temptations to sin ; he sees 
how often thou hast resisted and overcome thv 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? H 

tendencies to avarice or sensual enjoyment; he 
witnesses thy endeavors to make amends for 
every fault by noble actions. Ought a child to 
fear to appear before its loving parent, even 
though it have not yet conquered all its faults ? 
Has not Jesus revealed to us the infinite mercy 
of the Father in all its beauty ? Has he not 
given us assurances of his grace and his forgive- 
ness ? 

He who ever walks before the Omnipresent in 
the loving spirit of Jesus, he need not tremble 
before the Omnipresent ; and to him sudden 
death is but an unexpected benefaction. Such 
rapid passing away deprives death of its sharpest 
pangs : the sight of the weeping loved ones that 
surround us, the thought of the sorrow of those 
who are absent, which render so difficult our 
inevitable departure from this world. For to a 
loving heart, what bitterer grief can death bring 
than this ? Who could behold without deep pain 
the affliction of those he is about to leave ? Who 
could remain unmoved, when they draw nigh to 
stretch forth for the last time the hand of faithful 
love ? Who could remain untouched, when they 
surround the death-bed with mournful lamenta- 
tions ? 

Even the many solemn preparations for the 
possible occurrence of our demise, the anxious 
listening and watching of our dear ones, and the 
many other distressing circumstances which gen- 



12 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 

erally surround the dying, add to the agony of 
these last moments. Therefore, God often sends 
to his children sudden death. He relieves them 
from the afflicting necessity of witnessing the 
fruitless, and sometimes immoderate, grief of 
those who remain behind. 

Death itself, the falling asleep, has no bitter- 
ness. It is not a suffering, it cannot be so, for it 
is the end of all suffering, in which pain must 
already have ceased. It is the sickness alone 
which is distressing ; but sickness is not death, it 
only slowly introduces the latter. He whom God 
calls suddenly from this world is even spared the 
trials of a bed of illness. He dies without having 
tasted of death. Between his earthly and his 
heavenly life scarce a moment intervenes. With- 
out care, without fear, without pain, he passes 
from this life into a better and higher existence, 
like one who passes from dreaming to waking. 
He knows nothing of the struggle between death 
and the instinctive love of life ; in him there is no 
longing to remain with his loved ones, no repining 
for what he is about to leave, no anxious look- 
ing forward to what awaits him. 

No, I do not look upon sudden death as a pun- 
ishment of God, but as one of his sweetest boons. 
Thus he called unto himself an Elias and an 
Enoch. 

How could that be an evil, O Thou, the 
AUgood ! that cometh from thy hand ? Lord of 



SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 13 

the seraph and of the worm, Ruler of life and 
death, I am in thy hand ; do unto me as thou 
deemest fit ; for what thou dost is well done. 
When thou didst call me from nothing into life, 
thou didst will my happiness ; when thou callest 
me away from life, will my happiness be less thy 
care? No, no, thou art Love, and whosoever 
dwells in love, dwells in thee, O Lord, and thou 
in him. Thou, Lord, art my light and my sal- 
vation ; why should I tremble ? Thou art the 
Lord of my life ; what should I dread ? 



FEAR OF DEATH. 



Part I. 



It is fulfilled ! once — to the cross fast bound, 
His bitterest hour past — the Saviour cried, 

His flesh transpierced with wounds, his head thorn-crowned, 
Cried he to Him in whom he could confide ; 

Nor vainly cried he, for the hour drew nigh 

That ended all his mortal agony. 

It is fulfilled ! Though yet a short delay, 

I also once must cry, and that erelong ; 
Then shall I go where tears are wiped away, 

Where sickness cometh never more, nor wrong : 
The heart that 's filled with love and trusting faith 
Knows what it still may hope for, e'en in death. 

(2 Coe. v. 1-5.) 




F we mortals could foresee from our 

cradle all the events and sufferings 

that await us, many would tremble 

more at life than at the closing act 

of it which we call death. 

Life has often been metaphorically represented 
as a journey begun without our willing it, and 
ended without our willing it. On we speed with 
restless haste. We set out in the dim dawn of 



FEAR OF DEATH. 15 

morning, emerging from the unknown depths of 
night, and hurrying towards another night. From 
beginning to end it is the work of God. 

Minutes vanish, hours fly past us : fain would 
we linger among the first flowers that smile to us 
in the rosy morn of youth ! But a hidden power 
urges us on, the flowers fall withered from our 
hand, the hot midday sun of life is already glow- 
ing above our heads. We discover shady spots, 
whose refreshing shelter invites us to repose ; and 
gladly would we rest. But no ! we must speed 
on. We endeavor in vain to hold fast the joys 
we find by the wayside. They escape. Already 
the sunset reddens the sky, and behind the lurid 
glare night is stealthily approaching. Willingly 
would we pause to enjoy, in longer draughts, the 
coolness of the lovely evening. But onwards ! 
onwards ! cries an unknown voice. We cling in 
vain to the objects we meet, to stay the speed of 
our progress. It is but a futile effort ; they are 
carried along with us down the rapid stream. 
The colors of the sunset fade ; darkness envel- 
ops all things ; light is extinguished ; earth van- 
ishes ; our senses rest ; the journey is accom- 
plished. We are surrounded by night ; men have 
forgotten us. 

Such is our lot. We all know it. You do not 
shudder at the night from which you have emerged 
into this life, — why should you shudder at the 
night into which you are to pass? Are these 



16 FEAR OF DEATH. 

wonderful transformations of existence your own 
work ? No ; they are the unalterable consequen- 
ces of the wise laws of a Higher Power. 

What, then, is that which we call to die ? To 
go out like a light, and in a sweet trance to forget 
ourselves and all the passing phenomena of the 
day, as we forget the phantoms of a fleeting 
dream ; to form, as in a dream, new connections 
with God's world ; to enter into a more exalted 
sphere, and to make a new step up man's gradu- 
ated ascent of creation. 

We know naught of the world beyond this ; 
nor can it be revealed or expressed to mortal man, 
because it exceeds all his previous experiences, and 
he lacks the senses wherewith to comprehend it. 
How could you explain to one born blind the 
feeling of delight awakened in you by the con- 
templation of a beautiful form, or by the spectacle 
of early morn in spring among flowers ? If the 
soul of an animal should ever be clad in human 
form, and with this should receive the light of 
reason, would this new human soul, do you think, 
long to return to its first animal state, when in 
dull monotony it could only brood over the pres- 
ent as it passed by, and know of naught but what 
was immediately before it ? 

Why, then, do we fear death, which is but the 
certain transition to a better state ? Why do we, 
when we think of dissolution, treasure more 
highly our existence as it is ; although there are 



FEAR OF DEATH. 17 

but few among us who, if they had the choice, 
would care to live their life over again, with its 
many hours of suffering, its follies and its self- 
torturings, unless they might be allowed to intro- 
duce some changes ? 

There are two sources from whence spring the 
fear of death, which more especially deserve our 
attention. 

1. The Deity himself has intimately interwo- 
ven with our whole being an instinctive love of 
life. Hence the general: revolt of our nature 
against dissolution in all its forms. 

Were it not for this strong and almost uncon- 
querable love of life, were it not for this natural 
shrinking from death, the earth would already 
now be a depopulated desert. Man has to en- 
counter in this world numberless dangers, which 
would long ago have destroyed him, had not the 
love of life given him courage to resist them, and 
had not this courage, in its turn, given him the 
power to conquer them. To many a man his self- 
inflicted sufferings, or even his blind fear of mis- 
fortune, soon render life intolerable, and he would 
sink down before he had attained the goal of his 
journey, did not his dread of the dark mystery of 
the grave make him gird himself up, and recon- 
cile him to the labors of the day. Already, dark 
despair with dim-eyed frenzy approaches the brink 
of the abyss, and resolves upon passing over into 
the quiet land of death; but life puts on new 



18 FEAR OF DEATH. 

smiles, and hope, which ever accompanies it, 
plucks the dagger from the upraised hand. It is 
the Divine will that we should live to ripen for 
a higher destiny; therefore have we been bound 
to life by the tenderest yet strongest ties. 

Without this passionate love of life, the contin- 
uation of our existence after death would be in- 
different to us, and we should never earnestly set 
about preparing ourselves for higher perfection. 
But the passion for life is implanted in us, and 
with it follows the desire for continued existence 
even after the change in death. And to the hope 
of eternity is joined the feeling of the necessity of 
rendering ourselves worthy of a higher life here- 
after. 

Thus this inborn love, this instinctive clinging 
to life, becomes to us a Divine revelation of the 
continuance of our existence after death. And 
not only has the Christian received this spirit-stir- 
ring revelation through Christ Jesus, but to ail 
nations of the earth it has been vouchsafed. 

The wildest savage who roams the woods in 
still undiscovered lands looks with the same joy- 
ous hope towards eternity as did the sage of an- 
tiquity. 

But man errs grossly when he allows this in- 
stinctive love to degenerate into an unnatural and 
tormenting passion for life, which leads him to 
entertain an unreasonable fear of death, and to 
place an exaggerated value upon existence here 
on earth. 



FEAR OF DEATH. 19 

In many cases it is only a morbid state of the 
body which causes us to surround death in imagi- 
nation with shadowy terrors, — a tendency to mel- 
ancholy, which, when permitted to gain ground, 
harasses us with a constant and blind dread of 
dissolution. Not the real change which takes 
place in death, but the false images of it which 
float before the imagination, are calculated to 
awaken terror ; and these man has himself created 
for his own torment. 

This distressing tendency of mind is frequently 
nothing more than the result of a too sedentary 
life, and the consequent thickening of the humors 
of the body, and the obstruction by these of the 
delicate play of the nerves. It may sometimes be 
more readily overcome by exercise, work, and 
amusement, than by the best-founded consolatory 
arguments. The condition of a person who is in 
constant dread of illness, or of death, is very sad, 
and it would be advisable to consign him to the 
care of a skilful physician. 

We ought never, either to ourselves or to 
others, to depict death and the grave in more 
sombre colors than in reality belong to either. 
Gloomy images of this kind only serve to disturb 
the imagination, and they exercise a baneful influ- 
ence over weak minds. 

The dying are as little conscious of the transi- 
tion from life to d^nth as the weary are aware of 
the transition from the waking to the sleeping 



20 FEAR OF DEATH. 

state. We have known many persons who on 
the last bed of sickness have awaited with full 
consciousness the moment of dissolution, and 
have even predicted • it. Their imaginations had 
not been previously excited, they fell asleep smil- 
ing and without a fear, as should every Christian 
who believes in God, and who treasures up in a 
pious heart a full trust in his infinite goodness. 
That change which the spectator who stands by 
the bedside sees in the face of the dying, they see 
not themselves. Illness may be painful ; its cessa- 
tion cannot be so. 

When we shudder at the sight of the lifeless 
corpse, which lies before us cold and stiff, pale and 
breathless, having no sympathy with our feelings, 
no pity for our tears, as though it had never 
belonged to us, and never known us, this shud- 
der is caused by self-deception only. If we look 
narrowly into ourselves at such times, we shall 
find that we pity the dead for all he has lost. But 
he knows of no loss. We picture to ourselves 
how tenderly he loved us, how he would fain have 
remained with us, how he has been separated from 
us by an unknown hand, and how vainly we 
sought to keep him back. But the dead knows 
naught of this, and even in his last days and 
hours these sad thoughts and feelings w r ere far less 
vividly present to him than they are generally to 
persons in health. He has vanished from the 
realm of this life, and has left to us his ashes, his 



FEAR OF DEATH. 21 

earthly raiment, this icy statue, which we loved 
when it was animated by the soul, but which 
never belonged to him, and which will now return 
to the elements out of which it was gradually 
built up. 

Not to death itself belongs terror, but to the 
fancies we connect with it. Carry your mind 
away from these to the simple fact, and it will lose 
most of its gloom in your eyes. 

Another unnatural deviation from the instinc- 
tive love of life that God has implanted in us, is 
the passionate clinging to life which many persons 
evince, and the undue value which they attach to 
it. Life has no value except in as far as we use 
it for perfecting our souls, for enriching our minds 
with nobler qualities, -and for spreading happiness 
around us. When we can no longer do this, 
when, as in extreme old age, all hope of again 
being able to exert ourselves in this way ceases, 
then this life has lost its highest value, and a new 
existence becomes desirable. 

Exalted souls, ye know of nobler possessions 
than life ! Ye who have gone to meet the hero's 
death for the freedom and welfare of your father- 
land and thousands of oppressed fellow-citizens ; 
ye who, to uphold «the truth of Jesus Christ's 
religion, have courageously chosen the path of 
the grave ; ye who have preferred death to a life 
without dignity and without virtue, — ye knew the 
true value of existence. Ye died courageously 



22 FEAR OF DEATH. 

in the service of virtue, in the performance of 
heavenly deeds. Your death is more enviable 
than the life of thousands ! Ye blessed ones, ye 
teach those that remain behind what their lives 
ought to be. (Matt. xvi. 25.) 

Life has no worth except through our virtues, 
through the happiness that we prepare for others. 
He therefore, who, like the animal, only lives to 
satisfy his hunger and his thirst, without any 
effort to prepare his mind for a future nobler ex- 
istence ; he who lives merely to tickle his palate 
with daintier viands and more exquisite wines than 
other men ; he who lives but to clothe his body 
in finer raiment than other men, to satisfy his 
vanity and to display his miserable pride, — futili- 
ties that must vanish on the brink of the grave, — 
his existence has no worth, his death deserves no 
tear. 

Frequently, again, the passionate clinging to life 
is but a consequence of too great a love and anx- 
iety for those we may leave behind us. We trem- 
ble at death because it will tear us from the arms 
of a beloved husband or wife. We shrink back 
from the grave because, when we shall descend 
into it, dear children will stand around it, — poor 
orphans without education? without protection, 
without support. 

For this reason we often see that young persons, 
who have no innocent dear ones depending on 
them, die more composedly than parents, whose 



FEAR OF DEATH. 23 

eyes are fixed lovingly upon their children. But 
even in such cases the mind of a Christian ought 
not to be overwhelmed by the fear of death. It 
is not thou, O father, nor thou, O mother, who 
hast hitherto protected thy child : it is God ! God 
is the father of the orphan ; the same God who 
watches over the life and the well-being of the 
humblest worm. If he wills the welfare of thy 
children, verily no human power shall prevail 
against them. If God should call thee from them, 
hasten joyfully to the Heavenly Father ; the time 
will come when he will call thy children also. 

2. The second chief source whence springs the 
fear of death, is the turning away of men's hearts 
from the eternal truths of religion. 

You are, it is true, baptized in Christ ; you con- 
fess him in the Holy Supper; you perform the 
customary rites of religion ; but do you also walk 
in the spirit of Christ and of his commandments ? 
Are you conscious of your God, and at one with 
him in the depths of a pious heart ? Do you at 
all times walk in the ways of the Lord ? Do you 
at all times aim at being just ? Do you do all 
the good that is in your power ? Have you made 
peace with your enemies ? Is your conscience 
troubled by the remembrance of secret sins ? 

The religious man stands highest in the human 
scale on earth. With his eyes fixed on eternity, 
with his hands stretched forth to do good, he walks 
in and with God ; calm amid storms and tempests, 



24 FEAR OF DEATH. 

blessed with the peace that God alone can bestow. 
But never does the sublimity of religion appear in 
a more beneficent light than in the hour of death, 
or even when connected with the mere thought of 
the tomb. It is then that its most blessed power 
is revealed. 

A sensual, uncultivated man, when he thinks 
of death, feels the fearful isolation of his spirit, 
and anticipates the annihilation of all that he pos- 
sesses. What is his spirit when deprived of that 
which has hitherto constituted its delights? He 
has never contemplated a higher destiny ; what is 
to become of him then when he loses the earthly 
things, which alone he knows and values ? He 
is descending into the grave, and behind him 
he leaves merry feasts, gilded honors, costly gar- 
ments, the flatteries of parasites, the obsequious- 
ness of dependents, the heaped-up treasures which 
covetous heirs rush to divide. Poorer than the 
beggar that used to hang about his door he stands 
before the portals of eternity: he has lost his all; 
he knew but owe world, — his earthly home. What 
is now to become of him? 

O religion, O sweet peace of conscience, and 
thou, O union of my soul with the Most High, 
do not abandon me ! Alas for him who only 
stretches forth his arms towards you, when all 
earthly things are melting away! Alas for him 
who does not fix his eyes on a higher existence 
until he feels this sublunary world giving way un- 
der his feet ! 



FEAR OF DEATH. 25 

O Jesus, in thy holy revelation I will live, and 
in it I will die. Blessed is the power of thy 
word ; to it the power of death must yield. I live 
to thee, and I shall not die. There is no death, 
there is no grave ; it is but change and glorification. 
God is no God of death ; he is our life. He cre- 
ated life, and my spirit is his work. My spirit is 
life, while it animates my body, and remains life, 
when the dust, which for a time clothed it as a 
garment, and which was to it as an instrument, 
returns again to dust. 

Heavenly and eternal Father, Source of all 
being, thou from whom I spring, unto whom I 
shall return, — thine I shall ever be ! Sweet is 
life, in truth, but death has nevertheless no terrors ; 
no fear of it shall overwhelm me, shall turn me 
away from thee and from the path of virtue. I 
hold as naught the days that I do not adorn with 
good deeds ; I hold as naught a life which I cannot 
glorify by virtue. 

And me also, me also, O God, thou wilt call 
unto thyself when my hour comes, when my earth- 
ly goal is reached. Blessed shall I then be if I 
can say unto myself, I have fought a good fight ; 
as far as my powers allowed, I have completed a 
life of well-doing; the crown of eternal life awaits 
me also ! 

And when in the last hour I have to taste the 
bitterness of death, to drain the final cup of trial ; 
when my stiffened hand can no longer bestow a 
2 



26 FEAR OF DEATH. 

blessing on my loved ones, from whose sorrowful 
eyes the tears of parting are falling on my pillow, 
my closed lips can no longer utter words of love, 
of love true unto death; when the stir of the 
world and all the sweet sounds of life cease to 
fall upon my ear, — then, then, O Lord ! I com- 
mend my soul to thee. Joyfully I turn away my 
dimmed eyes from those who are dear to my heart, 
for I know they are in thy keeping. Thou abidest 
with them as thou abidest with me, forevermore 
in the regions of eternal life. 

No, I fear not death, Father of life! For 
death is not eternal sleep ; it is the transition to a 
new life, a moment of great and glorious trans- 
formation, an ascension towards Thee. 

Yet we cannot deem unpardonable the tear that 
is wept over the bier of a beloved object. O 
Source of all Love, thine eye penetrates our in- 
most being. Thou seest the bleeding heart of the 
mother standing by the coffin of her child, which 
carries with it into the grave her brightest hopes. 
Thou knowest the heart-rending grief of the 
father who has, by the death of a beloved son 
or daughter, been bereft of every happmess in this 
life. May thy Spirit, the blessed Comforter, pen- 
etrate our souls, and inspire with its strength our 
poor human hearts ! Alas ! we are but mortals. 
We are overwhelmed by the power of the moment : 
angels would in such moments praise thee ! 

Finally, the death of our loved one sweetens our 



FEAR OF DEATH. 



27 



own death, which leads us towards eternal reunion. 
The affectionate words of Christ are an earnest to 
us of a more joyful futurity. We also shall one 
day be with our loved ones in paradise. Amen, O 
God and Father! So be it. Amen. 



FEAR OF DEATH. 



Part II. 



Away, pale fear of death, away ! 

Eejoice thyself in death, my heart, 
The cold corpse will- rejoin its clay, 

And grief shall end, and pain's sharp smart, 
And the well of tears shall dry 
When the dust in dust shall lie. 

Thou healest every wound, death ! 

Thy touch at once each sorrow charms ; 
As departs my failing breath, 

Flee I unto angels' arms. 
Though enclosed within the grave, 
Light and freedom shall I have. 

Father, for each earthly pleasure 

Heart-felt thanks from me receive. 
Thanks, should grief o'erflow the measure, 

Father, still my soul shall give : 
Shouldst thou take them both from me, 
Yet more gladly praise I thee ! 

(2 Cok. v. 1.) 

COLD shudder seizes me at the thought 
of death, and every fibre of my body 
seems to struggle against the feeling of 
dissolution and separation. And yet, 
however much my whole being may revolt against 




FEAR OF DEATH. 29 

it, like others I must die. I see pass by me to the 
grave the corpse of the child faded in the bud, and 
of the old man worn out with years. The ashes 
of the maiden, called away in her early bloom, min- 
gle with those of the man whom some dire event, 
some unforeseen accident, has cut off in the 
prime of his manhood and activity. And my 
corpse, too, will one day be laid among the rest. 

Why am I alive ? Why should not death be as 
familiar to me as life, as both come to me without 
my will and without my knowledge ? 

Sobbing with grief, the faithful husband stands 
by the coffin of his dear partner, his second self, 
her whom he called the better half of his heart ; 
with similar grief a devoted child remembers an 
affectionate father, or a gentle, loving mother, who 
has been taken from him, alas !. too soon ; pain- 
fully fall the tears of the sorrowing bride on the 
cold clay of her beloved, whose death is to her the 
death of every hope in life ; deep is the sadness 
with which father or mother contemplates the little 
grave which covers the remains of the darling child, 
whose innocence and grace so often delighted their 
hearts, and filled their views of the future with 
soul-elevating images. 

Wherefore do I weep ? And wherefore do you 
weep, who have lost beloved ones ? Is it for the 
dead, because they have to leave all that is dear to 
them, — to leave a life which has bestowed so many 
pleasures, and promises so many more ? O un- 



30 FEAR OF DEATH. 

called-for compassion ! Do we pity each night our 
dear ones when they fall asleep, or do we pity our- 
selves when we go to rest ? Yet what difference 
is there between sleep and death ? True, he who 
falls asleep feels a profound assurance that with 
the rising sun he will awake again with renewed 
strength ; while the dying has not so near a hope. 
But when he awakes he will find instead of you 
the long lost dear ones that have gone before him ; 
he will find his God, who will be more to him 
than you could ever be, poor orphans ! he finds a 
blessed state that will endure forever ; nay, he will 
in a short time even find you again. For what is 
the duration of even the longest life on earth? 
Ask the old man of threescore and ten, and he 
will tell you, — " So little have I retained of my 
life, that it seems to me but a summer night's 
dream of threescore minutes and ten." Then, 
wherefore do we weep ? Even sleep causes sep- 
aration ; and the separation in death, is it for a 
much longer term ? 

Nay, we ought to be able to say good night to 
our dying friends with the same calm composure 
with which we take leave of each other in the 
evening, when, looking confidently beyond the 
night, we enjoy in advance the pleasures of the 
coming morn ; or we ought to whisper our friendly 
farewell as though they were about to set out on a 
safe journey to a pleasant land, to the house of our 
Father, the home of our loved ones, whence an 



FEAR OF DEATH. 31 

invitation has gone forth to them, and whither we 
shall follow erelong. 

In truth, when divested of all the gloomy sub- 
ordinate circumstances with which my imagination 
invests death, it is not so terrible. No one would 
think of it as dreadful had he never seen a dead 
corpse, — the pallor, coldness, and stony impassive- 
ness of which causes a shudder ; did he know 
naught of death but that it is. a transformation of 
our souls, a passing away to a happier and more 
blessed home. 

It is to our imaginations we owe the gloomy 
thoughts that most distress us ; in the fulness of 
our health and strength, and our love of life, we 
fancy ourselves in the place of the dying, and thus 
we experience grief that he knows not, and endure 
pains that he does not suffer. We fancy ourselves 
in the dark tomb, and behold the members of the 
body being converted into dust, and the grave 
seems to us the end of all life. 

But if we set aside these terrific images, the off- 
spring of our own brains, which have no existence 
in reality, we shall find little difference between 
sleep and death. Numbers of persons, who in 
their lifetime have entertained a most unreasonable 
fear of death, have ultimately passed away with a 
cheerfulness and serene composure which they 
never expected. 

It is still more unreasonable to picture to our- 
selves the moment of the soul's parting from the 



32 FEAR OF DEATH. 

body as especially painful. Whether this disrup- 
tion causes suffering to the body, no one is able to 
tell. The spasmodic twitching of the muscles 
(which in many cases indeed does not take place) 
is distressing to behold, but is painless as a sensa- 
tion. With the exception of falling asleep, nothing 
is so similar to the passing away in death as the 
sinking of a person into a swoon ; yet he who 
faints experiences little or no suffering before un- 
consciousness ensues. Perhaps, if artificial stimu- 
lants were not applied to restore to his nervous 
system the power of serving the soul, he would 
pass from the swoon into death without any further 
sensation. Such also is the condition of all those 
who, reduced to unconsciousness by excessive cold, 
are eventually restored to life. Their limbs are be- 
numbed, their blood flows slower and slower, and 
finally the body stiffens as in death. The only 
sensation they experience is unconquerable drowsi- 
ness, and desire to lie down and rest ; and though 
they may be perfectly conscious that sleep is likely 
to end in death, they nevertheless brave it that 
they may enjoy the delight of sleep. 

It is thus established that the moment of dissolu- 
tion has in itself nothing that is terrible, that very 
few persons are clearly conscious of it, and that it 
is the imagination of the survivors that invests it 
with horrors. And yet even in this case it is not 
the act of dying itself that seems so terrible, but 
the thought, What shall I be when I have ceased 



FEAR OF DEATH. 33 

to belong to humanity, when I have been stripped 
of my human form ? It is this uncertainty as to 
all that is in store for us that fills us with awe. 
The darkness that envelopes the future makes us 
rejoice doubly in the broad daylight that surrounds 
us ; we learn to appreciate that which we possess ; 
and we tremble at the thought of exchanging all 
that is familiar to us for a state of which we can 
hardly form a conception. 

Had the wisdom of the Creator vouchsafed to us 
in this life a knowledge of what is to come in the 
next, verily the grave would cease to be a barrier, 
and a small number only would await patiently the 
natural hour of death. 

But the very uncertainty in which we are left 
constitutes the strongest tie that binds to life the 
impatient and the frivolous, who are apt to be 
thrown into despair by the slightest adversity, and 
prevents them from cutting short the term of trial 
appointed for them. It is this that surrounds death 
with such awe, that all who are not bereft of rea- 
son shrink back from it. 

But even this uncertainty is only terrifying as 
long as the future world seems far off ; in the hour 
of death it changes character. Then it is the life 
that lies behind us that appears dark and vague ; 
while the future, with its new existence, is irradi- 
ated by the light of certainty. The dying man 
makes up his account with the world, once more 
bestows his blessing upon his dear ones, and turns 



34 FEAR OF DEATH. 

away from all that he loves best, in order to shut 
himself up within himself, and to pass over into 
the happier existence. The past has no charms for 
him ; he is attracted solely by the new world, on 
the threshold of which he stands. 

However, it is not to all that death loses its 
terrors. It is with reason that the sinner trembles 
when he beholds it in the distance, and still more 
so when he finds himself inevitably face to face 
with it. 

But who is the sinner? Every one to whom 
this earthly life is all in all, and to whom the 
Divine element in it is nothing ; every one who 
lives for this world as were it never to end ; every 
one who thinks more of the gratification of his 
senses than of the improvement of his immortal 
spirit ; every one who wastes year after year in 
endeavoring to increase his earthly possessions and 
dignities, who lives but to adorn his person, to 
enjoy frivolous pleasures, to triumph over his rivals 
and opponents ; in a word, to secure to himself 
such earthly goods as seem to him most desirable, 
while he feels it irksome to devote a moment to the 
perfecting of his undying soul. 

When such a one dies, his soul is in death even 
poorer than in the first hour of his birth, when at 
least it possessed the jewel innocence. He dies, 
and his spirit sinks into nothingness ; for earthly 
goods were everything to him, and he himself was 
but an instrument of rude passions. What be- 



FEAR OF DEATH. 35 

comes of the soul, if made the slave of the body, 
when the body, its master and idol, has been con- 
verted into dust ? What becomes in death of the 
accomplishments of the body, the artistic language 
of gesture, the sportive wit of the moment, the 
capacity for over-reaching and seducing others, the 
power of flattery, the thousand little arts of vanity 
and conceit ? They perish with the flesh. But 
the poor neglected spirit, and the forgotten eter- 
nity, — they endure ! Fearful as it may be, they 
endure ; and the consequences of sin, and the 
account to be rendered, and the judgment, and the 
righteous before God, — they endure. 

Lost one ! my soul is moved with sorrow at thy 
lot. Angels may well weep over it ; but thou 
hadst warning. God, nature, reason, the events 
of the world, joy, misfortune, men, books, — all 
preached it to thee, all recalled to thee thy higher 
destiny ; all warned thee, now louder, now more 
gently, now in threatening tones, now in imploring 
accents, to remember the one thing needful. Lost 
one ! Thou didst smile proudly, and thy pride 
was thy god. Thou wert ashamed of being 
good, — called it visionary enthusiasm, romance, 
folly, to ask of thee to be truly, humanly noble, by 
rising above thy dearest passions ! Lost one ! thou 
hast prepared thine own destiny, and no angel will 
alter the eternal laws of nature or of the world of 
spirits. God is just, and no prayers, no sweat of 
agony on thy pale forehead, can save thee ; thy life 



36 FEAR OF DEATH. 

lies wasted behind thee, thy spirit passes, without 
a hope of a better lot, into the new existence. 
Thou hast enjoyed thy goods, and thou hast thy 
reward. 

Yea, most assuredly, a dreadful certainty awaits 
him who in this life has lived but for the present, 
as though it were not to be followed by a hereafter ! 
But equally certain is that which awaits the right- 
eous man who has quietly pursued the path of duty 
and virtue, and who has preferred the well-being, 
the peace, the happiness of those around him, to 
his own. 

He enjoys certainty. His heart tells him, thou 
shalt not die entirely ; eternal love watches over 
thee. Nature tells him so, when through her won- 
ders he beholds, as through a veil, God in his 
majesty, his infinitude, and his mercy. His relig- 
ion, as revealed by Jesus, teaches it. He knows 
that our earthly mansion, our frail body, will be 
destroyed, but that we have- a building, built by 
God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens. (2 Cor. v. 1.) 

What are the terrors of death to a noble mind ? 
A play of the imagination, at which, not the soul, 
but only what is earthly in us, trembles. Has not 
Jesus Christ conquered for us the terrors of death ? 
Did he not open for us joyful admission to the 
Father, when he taught us to be perfect as our 
Father in heaven is perfect ? 

Though the body may shudder when about to 



FEAR OF DEATH. 37 

be reduced to ashes again, and it ceases to be an 
instrument of the soul that until then had animated 
it, the spirit of the righteous is at the same time 
seized with holy transports : for it sees throughout 
the entire universe Life only, nowhere death ; it 
sees the mutual relations of all things, sees no link 
wanting in the great chain of beings which the 
almighty hand of God has woven. 

Millions before me have fought the battle and 
won the victory, and millions will do so after me. 
Shall I alone, then, shrink back with vain and 
cowardly fear from a death which is not death ? 
Nay, let us depart courageously and cheerfully by 
faith, if not yet by sight. (2 Cor. v. 7.) These 
friends, these children, these loved ones to whom 
my heart clings so tenderly, when I part from them 
will it be forever ? Nay, it is but separation for 
the length of a summer night. Their congenial 
souls will remain true to mine. The kind though 
mysterious hand of Providence, which made us 
find each other in the gloom of this life, will re- 
unite us again in the bright daylight of eternal 
being. God, whom the eternal Son, whom Jesus 
calls Love, Love the purest and the highest, will 
not destroy and tear asunder that love which he 
himself created. No, the All-holy One, in whose 
likeness we may grow through love and virtue, 
will not allow love and virtue to fade with the 
dust, from which they do not spring. 

If, then, it be my Father's will that I should 



38 FEAR OF DEATH. 

depart hence earlier than ye, whom he confided to 
my care, — ye beloved ones, whom he bestowed 
upon me, to gladden my life, — my last look will 
dwell upon you with tender blessings, while eter- 
nity is beckoning me away. The tears of sadness 
ye weep at my death-bed shall be to me the last 
test of your faithful love, which so often shed hap- 
piness around me, and which can never die ! Ye 
will cease to weep for me, but not to love me; 
and even in its heavenly abode, even amid the 
pure transports it may there enjoy, my soul will 
continue to love you, — that sentiment which God 
implanted in it, I will lay again before his throne. 
" Weep not," I will whisper to you in my last 
hour ; " that is not death where innocence, virtue, 
and holiness live. Sin only is the death of the 
soul. Flee sin, hold fast to God, act divinely in 
as far as your powers will allow, and we shall 
belong to each other and remain united there as 
here." 

Yes, henceforward I will walk more steadily in 
the path of righteousness, and the terrors of death 
will vanish before the consciousness of my growth 
in goodness, as mist disappears before the rays of 
the morning sun. How cheerfully have not num- 
bers of noble mortals voluntarily encountered cer- 
tain death for truth and right, for their country 
and for the good of humanity ! They died in the 
good cause as martyrs to their own nobility of 
soul. Ye, exalted minds, ye prized sacred objects 



FEAR OF DEATH. §9 

higher than a life without merit, — prized the 
duties of the spirit higher than a few brief hours 
or years spent in the sensuous enjoyments of 
earth. Ye esteemed death in the cause of God a 
gain ; it was to you but as a change of garment, 
and in reality was but this : you cast off the per- 
ishable raiment, to clothe yourselves in the im- 
perishable. 

Ah, enviable fate, to breathe out the spirit in 
the arms of God, while sacrificing an empty, 
worthless life in the fulfilment of duty ! Jesus ! 
such was thy death, the death that redeemed the 
world ! Ah ! could such be the death of all thy 
•followers, could mine be such ! May it be my lot 
to give up my spirit in the midst of well-doing, 
and while surrounded by the blessings of a world 
rendered happier through my exertions ! 

Finally, what attractions has this earth that 
should make parting from it so difficult? The 
desire of the righteous is to be forever growing 
in righteousness. Can the opportunity be ac- 
corded here below for this continued growth? 
No, this holy craving can only be satisfied after 
they awake in the higher existence. 

And the joys of this life, — though I am far 
from holding them lightly, for they are the gifts 
of God, — how fleeting are they not! How quick- 
ly do we not tire even of the greatest pleasures 
of earth ! What have we gained, when we have 
obtained all that we have lusted for ? What, but 



40 FEAR OF DEATH. 

the constant repetition of a drop of honey mixed 
with a drop of gall ? None of this world's pleas- 
ures is quite unalloyed. 

Thou fearest death, O feeble mortal ? What 
then wouldst thou gain by an unusually prolonged 
life ? Thou wouldst see the friends of thy youth, 
thy children, all thy loved ones, descend before thee 
into the grave ; thou wouldst find thyself at last 
alone in the world, a forlorn stranger, no longer 
having aught in common with it. Thou wouldst 
stretch out thine arms longingly towards those 
that had gone before thee, and thou wouldst weary 
of the empty hours of thy . earthly existence. 
Thy protracted life would become to thee but a* 
painful burden, which thou wouldst willingly con- 
sign to the arms of death, that thou mightest 
hasten free and joyful towards the beloved spirits 
that await thee yonder where no sorrow, no part- 
ing, no tear is known ! 

Yes, O my Saviour, I will become what thou 
demandest of me, — a true child of God, useful, 
loving, delighting in well-doing, without hatred 
or vanity or covetousness, pure as thou wert, 
divine Friend of man ! Then for me the grave 
will have no terrors; then death will be to me 
only the easy passing from dreaming to waking. 

And when I shall awaken into the eternal, 
more blissful existence, O Jesus, Revealer of 
eternity ! O God, bountiful Dispenser of the 
never-ending bliss of our spirits ! wdiat holy trans- 



FEAR OF DEATH. 41 

ports fill my being at the mere thought of what 
I shall then enjoy ! The grave is my cradle, 
death is my awaking, the sunset of this life is the 
sunrise of existence in the regions of eternity ! 

Ah, ye dear ones, who have gone before me ! 
ye tenderly beloved ones, whose sacred memory I 
still honor here on earth with my tears : how my 
heart yearns for you ! — And I shall once more 
be with you. Though more perfect than I, ye 
still love me as I ' love you. It is love that 
binds together the spirits of distant worlds, that 
forms the link between heaven and earth ; there- 
fore its flame can never die out in my heart ! 
And this love shall sanctify me, this hope of re- 
union shall be my safeguard against all tempta- 
tions to sin. Towards you are directed all my 
wishes, — fain would I again blend my being with 
yours. Therefore will I devote my whole soul to 
God and virtue, that through God I may find 
you. I fear death no longer ! It is but the mes- 
senger of God, sent to liberate me, to lead me to 
you. 

Soon ! soon ! shall all be done, — 

Peaceful rest I, Lord, in thee ; 
Thousands have the victory won, — 

I, too, shall win the victory. 
Louder in death than Nature's voice, 
My heart outcries, Have faith ! — Eejoice ! 



GOD IS LOVE 



Could we silence every tongue, 
Love ! thy praise would Still be sung. 
Sun and moon, and stars above, 
All bear witness, God is Love. 
Silent heights, depths, earth and heaven, 
Soul ! by thee is witness given. 

Labor's impulse, peaceful hour, 

Joy in living, come from thee. 
I — what am I ? whence my power ? 

Gave a foe this strength to me 1 
Say, are speech, ear, sight, and feeling 
Tokens of love, or hate's revealing 1 

O, I feel thee, and before thee, 

Father of Love, in praise I fall ; 
For that IamI will adore thee, — 

Join the chorus, creatures all. 
Love gave me life, and from above 
Bestows all good, because 't is Love. 

(1 St. John iv. 3.) 

OD is Love ! How constantly is not 
this thought — the most comforting of 
all to an anxious human heart — re- 
produced in the prayers and writings 
of Christians, and yet how few quite comprehend 
it ! and, more deplorable still, how few have full 
and unswerving faith in this blessed truth ! 




GOD IS LOVE. 43 

Heaven and earth proclaim it, for every law of 
nature bears witness to it ; reason also bids us put 
faith in it, — the revelations of Jesus Christ 
preach it, — and yet how vague and uncertain 
is the belief in it in the most human hearts ! 

All the nations of antiquity have said it : God is 
the wisest and purest Love. The most enlight- 
ened as well as the least civilized peoples of the 
present day profess it. Yet all have witnessed 
many fearful events seemingly in contradiction 
with this faith. They have seen dreadful wars 
that have struck down the hopes of nations,— 
wars which have been permitted by God: and 
they have been terrified at the thought that these 
evils were sent by the God of Love. They have 
seen floods and inundations devastate whole coun- 
tries ; they have seen earthquakes shake the earth 
to its very foundations, cities and villages engulfed 
in the fiery abyss, and millions of human beings 
destroyed in a moment. They have seen moun- 
tains give way and bury under their ruins popu- 
lous regions ; they have seen a single tempest 
sweep every ship from the seas, and famine and 
pestilence convert smiling landscapes into deserts, 
— and with doubting hearts they have asked, Can 
all this havoc be the work of a loving God ? 

No ! cried a voice in their bosoms ; and yet the 
dreadful events would force themselves upon their 
memory. Hereupon they endeavored, by the 
light of their immature reason, to solve the ap- 



44 GOD IS LOVE. 

parent contradictions in the government of the 
world, and thus they came to believe, not only in 
the loving Father of all, but also in an evil being, 
who is ever contending against his goodness. 
Their childish imaginations created two deities 
of almost equal might, and placed both, as antago- 
nistic powers, on the throne of the universe. 
They loved the Good Deity, and brought him 
thank-offerings ; and they feared the evil deity, 
or the Devil, and endeavored to allay his enmity 
by prayers. 

In this manner the ignorant heathens interpret- 
ed the origin of evil in the world, which their 
weak understandings, and their imperfect concep- 
tions of the greatness of God, could not reconcile 
with his goodness. In consequence, the idea of a 
mighty evil spirit, opposed to God, was introduced 
among the Jews also, when they dwelt among the 
heathen during the Babylonian captivity; and this 
notion of a Devil, as the author of all evil in the 
world, was again transmitted from the Jews to the 
Christians, Jesus and his Apostles having, when 
addressing Jews, made use of figures of speech 
which would be likely to be understood by the 
people. 

This ungenerous notion, so incompatible with 
the omnipotence and omniscience of God, is per- 
haps hardly worthy of a refutation. There is no 
God but God ! He, and he only of all beings, is 
the Lord of the living and the dead. He alone 



GOD IS LOVE. 45 

rules the destinies of the worlds, as those of the 
humblest worm in the dust. 

Thus thinks the Christian. But unfortunately 
the conceptions which a great number of Chris- 
tians form of the all-loving God are not therefore 
more exalted, but frequently (hard as it is to 
believe) even less pure than those of the heathen. 
When the heathen found it impossible to reconcile 
the goodness of God with the evils of life, he in- 
vented, as a means of explaining the contradiction, 
a second deity, an evil being, but he did not ac- 
cuse the God of goodness of being the author of 
evil, and did not attribute to him low human, or 
rather animal passions. Many Christians, on the 
contrary, who as such believe of course in one 
God only, seeing the many ills that afflict human- 
ity, explain these by conceiving of God as a 
God of vengeance, as an angry God, a jealous and 
inexorable God, who punishes the faults of a mo- 
ment (for is man's life on earth more than a brief 
moment ?) with the sufferings of eternity, and 
who takes revenge for the sins of the fathers on 
their innocent offspring, — actions which, if com- 
mitted by a human being, would rightly be con- 
sidered as execrable and unjustifiable. 

These ideas of the Most High originated at a 
period when the human race was still in its in- 
fancy, and when men hardly formed a higher con- 
ception of God than that of a very powerful human 
being, and when they even depicted the Deity in 



46 GOD IS LOVE. 

human form. These are remnants from the time 
when Moses exhorted the Israelites, and when he 
was obliged to use expressions that could make an 
impression on their hard hearts. For what were 
the children of Israel, at the time they were led 
out of Egypt ? Were they not rude and ignorant, 
without instruction, without education, accustomed 
only to bondage under their Egyptian masters, 
obeying only when they felt the lash over them ? 
Did they not make unto themselves idols of gold 
and stone, and worship these as they had seen the 
Egyptians worship their idols ? Did they not even 
do this after Moses had preached to them that 
there was but one Almighty God, and no other 
God? 

To be able to guide such a people and to ac- 
custom them to strict obedience to the heavenly 
precepts, Moses was obliged to address them in 
accordance with their usual modes of thought. 
Children must be spoken to in terms different 
from those which would be used to grown-up 
persons, and ignorant, uncivilized nations cannot 
be addressed in the same language as thinking, 
highly cultivated peoples. 

However, even after the Israelites accepted the 
laws of Moses, and faithfully conformed to them, 
these ruder conceptions of God, meant only for 
their fathers, when they came out of the Egyptian 
bondage more than a thousand years previously, 
continued to prevail among them. And as the 



GOD IS LOVE. 47 

first Christians had been for the most part Jews, 
it followed as a matter of course that they took 
their conceptions of God over into Christianity 
with them. And thus they have descended from 
generation to generation, even unto our day, and 
have been maintained, partly by the circumstan- 
ces of the times and society, partly by the circum- 
scribed knowledge of many teachers, partly by 
erroneous interpretations, and applications of cer- 
tain passages in Holy Writ. 

We, however, will hold fast by that alone which 
Jesus Christ taught and revealed. And he, the 
Eternal Son, described the Father as the purest 
Love, in whom there is no particle of evil, — as 
the all-perfect Being, in whom consequently no 
human passion or weakness can dwell, who is alike 
incapable of jealousy, of anger, of vengeance, and 
of repentance. He blames the outbreak of such 
passions in man, — how then could he find them 
praiseworthy in the highest Being, in Him who is 
most emphatically Love and Goodness? 

But how, if God knows neither anger nor ven- 
geance, but only love, how has evil come into the 
world ? Who, then, is the author of all the mis- 
ery and suffering we behold on earth ? Thus asks 
the doubting Christian, suffering man, who knows 
not how to account for the existence of so much 
woe. If God is the Author of all things, is he 
not also the Author of evil ? And how am I to 
reconcile this with his wisdom and goodness, nay, 
even with his iustice ? 



48 GOD IS LOVE. 

What can I answer to this, poor doubter, other 
than in the entire universe there is no evil but sin? 
And sin is the work of man, springing from that 
freedom with which God has endowed him, to 
will and to do right or wrong. 

Now, as in the Divine creation everything is 
just and good, all that is wrong and unjust, so to 
say, isolates itself ; and when man wills evil, he feels 
the suffering that attends this dissociation. This 
suffering, however, tends to reform and enlighten 
him, so that he may no longer act against God's 
order of creation. And to God's ordinances be- 
long, not only the laws of nature around us, but 
also the laws within us. 

We are, therefore, ourselves the principal authors 
of our sufferings, by rushing, in our blind passions, 
headlong against the eternal and unyielding rules 
of creation. Thus a child is the author of its own 
pain, when from ignorance it wounds itself with 
dangerous weapons ; but the pain is the beneficent 
teacher of prudence. Again, a child is the author 
of its own suffering, when from wilfulness, disobe- 
dience, obstinacy, or thoughtlessness, it partakes of 
things that are injurious to its health ; but this suf- 
fering is the beneficent inculcator of forethought 
and virtue. 

The Divine laws that rule on earth are, that we 
should grow daily in wisdom, in knowledge, in vir- 
tue, and in godliness. Pain and suffering are man's 
guides to perfection. And even had wisdom and 



GOD IS LOVE. 49 

virtue never been preached to men, nature's silent 
language would have taught it to them. 

It is true there are many evils in life which can- 
not be said to be the consequences of our acts. 
When hail-storms destroy the growing corn, when 
war lays waste our homes, when the plague devas- 
tates the country, when floods or earthquakes swal- 
low up flourishing cities and their inhabitants, — 
what can poor, helpless men do to stay the powers 
of nature? how can they struggle against the 
might of God ? And yet these are terrible evils, 
— and yet God is Love. 

Yea, even amid the most fearful and destructive 
phenomena of nature, let it be proclaimed, God is 
Love. 

For, after all, what is it that those terrible rev- 
olutions destroys ? The earthly form of man, — 
not his real self, not his immortal spirit. And can 
we call the end of all earthly evils an evil ? And 
is not death the conclusion of the earthly and the 
commencement of the higher existence? Now, 
when thousands and thousands of human beings, 
fathers with their children, husbands with their 
wives, die at the same moment, struck down by 
some natural catastrophe, in accordance with the 
plans of Providence, — is there in the event it- 
self any very great difference from death caused 
by sickness or such like ? Would not those that 
perished at all events in a few years have gone 
home to the Eternal Father ? If death is not an 

3 D 



50 GOD IS LOVE. 

evil, then neither is earthquake, or flood, or pesti- 
lence, or any natural event which is destructive of 
human life, an evil to those who are thereby re- 
moved from this earth. It is only to the survivors 
that the grand spectacle of the destruction is ter- 
rific. But why ? Because they see therein a proof 
of the weakness of mortal man, and they tremble at 
the thought of the power of the Most High. But 
does this give us reason to despair of God's love ? 
If that were so, then every case of death would 
afford similar reason. But who would be guilty 
of the folly of doubting God's love, because men 
draw nigh to the goal of their destination ? 

The sufferings endured by the victims of the 
catastrophes alluded to are often more painful than 
the death which puts an end to them. But these 
bodily pains, which are founded in the order of na- 
ture, afford no reason for attributing to the Deity 
cruelty or a love of vengeance. Such sufferings 
are only temporary, and when bodily pain grows 
beyond endurance it generally terminates in a 
swoon, and the patient becomes insensible. God's 
beneficent hand has thus ordained it ; and more 
than this, he has ordained that by the side of every 
mortal affliction there shall grow compensatory joy, 
which the sufferer may cull if he chooses. Life on 
earth is but a many-colored series of changes. 

But the physical pains which we endure during 
our earthly career are, like all other suffering, 
beneficent teachers. They warn us not to forget 



GOD IS LOVE. 51 

how fleeting, how mutable, how unreliable is 
everything that belongs to earth, and is born of 
earth. They warn us not to attach too great 
value to these things, and rather to occupy our 
spirits with that which is unchangeable, eternal, 
and divine. He who does this can never be quite 
stricken down either by poverty, or sickness, or 
abandonment, or the death of his loved ones, or 
any other misfortune. He is exalted above the 
fluctuations of earthly happiness, and looks towards 
eternity. 

There are other Christians who think that, hav- 
ing conceived of God as an infinitely perfect 
Being, they must not attribute to him any human 
qualities, not even the most sublime and lovable 
virtues which grace humanity. For, they say, 
that which is the most exalted in man, and which 
presents itself to the human mind as such, may, in 
the Deity, be no more than imperfection. Thus 
they maintain that, although that which we call 
love may be the highest jewel, the paradise of 
human life, we can nevertheless not conceive of 
such love as moves us, as an attribute of the Deity ; 
for we stand much too low in the scale of beings 
to be able to comprehend the perfection of God. 

To many persons this mode of viewing the mat- 
ter may seem most likely to be the true one ; but 
if I ask them, Does it give them peace and happi- 
ness ? they must answer, No ; for if we divest God 
of the attribute of love, we stand indeed alone in 



52 GOD IS LOVE. 

the world, with no one to turn to for consolation, 
and life becomes a dark and insoluble riddle. 
Those who think thus do not deny God, it is true 
but they deny the possibility of our forming a just 
and adequate conception of him. 

Miserable men ! you confess that your views 
fail to render you happy : but why is this ? Be- 
cause you are at variance with yourselves or with 
your own reason. Bring your reason again into 
harmony with yourselves and with the universe, 
and you will reconquer your peace of mind. 

It is true that we cannot approach even to a 
faint conception of the full measure of God's being. 
But it is as true that God is, as that you are. 
And this once admitted, your reason cannot but 
add, that he is the most perfect of all perfect 
beings. For all imperfection is the reverse of 
divine. 

It is undeniable that human reason, when form- 
ing to itself a conception of the Highest Being, 
must divest this being of all feelings and passions 
which have their origin in earthly nature, — such 
as anger, hatred, rancor, cruelty, or vengeance. 
For how can we form to ourselves an idea of him 
as the most perfect of all beings, if we do not 
attribute to him the highest perfection within our 
power of conception ? Why, therefore, this self- 
contradiction ? Why this hesitation to ascribe to 
the highest Being the highest perfection ? How 
do we gain any knowledge of God, except through 



GOD IS LOVE. 53 

the great works of his creation ? Is not our 
reason the gift of God ? Is it not through this 
reason that he has revealed himself to all nations ? 
Do we not behold before us his works, in which 
he has given us a standard, though an infinitely 
small one, by which to measure his greatness ? 

If you refuse to conceive God as a perfect Spirit, 
you cannot conceive him at all. Then God has 
made your reason a lie, and has surrounded you 
with meaningless phantasms. If you conceive 
him as a being lifeless, yet wonderfully animating 
and setting in motion the whole universe, — as a 
powerful machine devoid of self-consciousness, but 
which causes the worlds to roll in their meas- 
ureless orbits, and makes the sap to rise in the 
veins of the most insignificant lichen, according to 
eternal laws, — then you make self-conscious man 
more perfect and more divine than God ; and 
reason, truth, and revelation you reduce to empty 
sounds. 

If, on the contrary, you conceive God, your 
God, the God of the Universe, not as a lifeless 
being, who performs his wonderful works uncon- 
sciously (it seems madness even to suppose this), 
O, then, honor in him the sublimest idea which 
he affords you of himself. You fear that, sub- 
lime as it may be, it is unworthy of his Majesty. 
Nay, those ideas which he has himself enabled 
us to form cannot be unworthy of him. See, 
the high heavens, star-spangled with innumerable 



54 GOD IS LOVE. 

worlds, paint an image of themselves on the retina 
of your eye ; and yet how small is your eye and 
how immeasurable are those distances, how illimit- 
able that space, which the most highly cultivated 
reason suffices not to calculate or to fathom ! 
Nevertheless it is through this miniature picture 
on the glossy surface of your eye that you are 
alone able to discern them, and admire them, and 
thus also the infinite God ! He mirrors his per- 
fection and his greatness, which no mind can com- 
pass or fathom, on the eye of the mind. 

Love for what is great, good, beautiful, holy, 
perfect, prevails throughout the spiritual world ; a 
loving Wisdom reveals itself in all the wonders of 
heaven and earth ; and what God speaks to you 
through the evidences of his power, would you 
deny it ? You dare to pronounce man sublime in 
his holy love, and you hesitate to declare God to 
be the purest Love ! When man willingly sacri- 
fices life and all its joys for love of God and virtue, 
how exalted does he not appear to us ! And yet 
you can doubt that God is Love! Does, then, 
man bear within himself something more divine 
than God? 

Away with these fallacies, bred of human soph- 
istry and one-sided science. Thou, O God, art 
Love ! Not in vain hast thou endowed us with 
this sentiment and this feeling, which links soul to 
soul, the living to the dead, and is but a ray of thy 
infinite perfection, which mirrors itself faithfully in 



GOD IS LOVE. 55 

the spirit of man. Thou art love, and naught but 
love ! Does not the whole creation proclaim it ? 
Do not the events of my own life bear witness to 
it ? Does not Jesus Christ, the Divine Enlight- 
ener of man, declare it ? 

Thou art Eternal Love ! Thou wilt never dis- 
unite w T hat thou hast united in spirit ; thou wilt 
never, O Father, separate us, thy children, from 
thyself. Thou didst not in vain send Jesus to us, 
to guide us to thee. Thou wilt never, O Father, 
dissever the loving spirits which thou hast led 
together here on earth. As they belong to each 
other here, so will they belong to each other here- 
after. They will be reunited in thee, thou centre 
of all that is spiritual and of all that is blissful ! 

O exquisite thought ! O inspiring hope ! God 
is Love, and whosoever dwells in love can never 
feel forsaken, and can never cease to exist ! 



THE CONSOLATION OF THE PA- 
TIENT SUFFERER. 



Be strong, my soul, although to-morrow 

Each earthly joy were from thee torn ; 
Have courage, though the bitterest sorrow 

Should leave thee comfortless to mourn. 
Upraise thee, groveller, from the dust, 
In soul to grasp thy God, and trust ; 

Be worthy of the glorious lot 
"Which He who died for thee, the Son, 
Has for thee from the Eather won. 

This life 's a dream that lingereth not. 

Striv'st thou with zeal to bless thy kind, 

Still on thy country's good intent, 
Were the whole world against thee joined, 

Ne'er of thy righteous zeal repent. 
Let neither wile nor mock of sin 
Stifle the still, small voice within, 
Nor hinder thee from deeds of love. 
Thy heaven is in the realms above. 

(2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.) 

HE most virtuous Christian ought al- 
ready here on earth to be the happiest, 
yet this is not always the case. It is 
true, Religion sheds her soothing balm, 
her heavenly peace, through the hearts of her wor- 
shippers, so that even in the deepest depths of 




THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 57 

their miseries they cannot be utterly wretched ; 
she affords them an anchor in the wildest tempest, 
a star to guide them through the darkest night. 
But there are hours, there are days, when even 
this anchor seems to give way, when even the 
light of this star seems to grow dim. There are 
hours and days when even the consciousness of 
our uprightness, the sense of our own worth, the 
remembrance of our virtues, far from soothing our 
distress, only increase it, nay, overwhelm us with 
an excess of anguish. In such an hour it was that 
Jesus, bowed down in the dust, shed drops of 
bloody sweat, and cried, " O my Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me I " In such an 
hour it was that he stammered with dying accents 
on the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou 
forsaken me ? " 

Sufferings of an unusual nature may indeed at 
times even shake our faith. When we find that 
we — though full of resignation to the ways of 
Providence, of unwavering trust in the eternal 
love of God, of affectionate sympathy for the weal 
and woe of our fellow-beings, and though devoting 
ourselves industriously to the duties of our office — 
are visited by misfortune and affliction, while bad 
men bask in the smiles of fortune, revel in well- 
being, rise in the world, though totally devoid of 
merit, and know no sorrow and no suffering, — 
ah, how pardonable is at such times the groan of 
the deeply depressed Christian : " Of what use is 
3* 



58 THE CONSOLATION OF 

my virtue, of what avail are my prayers so full of 
heart-felt devotion, of what avail my endeavors for 
the good of others, or the many sacrifices I have 
so frequently made to principle ? See, vice is ex- 
ultant ; and virtue is scorned. The railer against 
God triumphs ; fear of God, innocence of mind, 
are scoffed at as folly ; and the worshipper of God 
weeps lonely in the dust. No one approaches 
lovingly the poor, deserted sufferer ; even God's 
mercy seems to have turned away from him. Is 
then the order of the world, such as God created 
it, antagonistic to all that is called religion and 
piety? Are noble hearts predestined to suffer? 
Does the Ruler of the universe crown only un- 
scrupulousness, base crime, and cunning shaine- 
lessness ? — Where am I ? Why was I taught by 
Jesus to treasure a pure heart as above all price, 
when this heart is, more than any other, exposed 
to every grief? " 

What has the pious Christian done, that the 
thunder-cloud of war should burst destructively 
over his cottage ? Perhaps his sons, the hopes of 
his life, have been murdered, his daughters dishon- 
ored, his goods destroyed, his means of subsistence 
taken from him. As a helpless beggar he must 
struggle with want all the rest of his days, and 
totter to the grave without a friend to comfort and 
sustain him ; while worse men than he have en- 
riched themselves by fraudulent means, and pass 
through life honored, loved, and flattered. What 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 59 

has the child been guilty of, who is tortured by- 
sickness which it has not brought upon itself, and 
has to drag on through a blighted life with an 
unhealthy body ? He grows into youth and man- 
hood, — but of what avail are his ardent prayers 
for health to the Hearer of all prayer ? They are 
not answered. Of what avail is his pious heart, 
his keen desire to be useful to others ? He lives 
and dies in helpless misery, while others in the 
enjoyment of blooming health seem only to have 
received the fulness of strength from Heaven, to 
enable them to inflict the more evils on the world. 

Yes, who can venture to deny it? There are 
sufferings in the world, the spectacle of which 
tempts us to doubt the rule of an all-just Provi- 
dence, and the value of piety and virtue ; when 
our faith and trust give way, and unconquerable 
melancholy takes possession of the soul. 

But even during such moments of despair a 
friendly voice from heaven cries to our heart in 
the words of Jesus : u Come unto me, all ye that 
labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest." The only fountain of consolation, therefore, 
when reason fails to supply such, is the religion of 
Jesus. Whither, indeed, should we flee, when the 
world deserts us, but to the arms of God, in whose 
might we dwell ? 

And however furiously the storms of life ma} 
rage around us ; though every door of escape may 
seem closed against us ; though the light on oui 



60 THE CONSOLATION OF 

path through life be extinguished ; though the last 
friend depart from us ; though our grief and dis- 
tress may have reached their climax, life and death 
be struggling for mastery within us, — God is still 
our God ! Whatever happens is still his work, 
and the work of the most exalted love. That 
which he withholds from our earthly part will 
form the strength of our immortal soul ; that 
which we have lost, and may still lose, was and 
is only transitory, and to lose it we must all be 
prepared ; but our spirits are enriched by the 
bereavement, are brought closer to God thereby. 

Therefore, courage, unswerving principle, and 
faith, even in the hour of bitterest trial ! He will 
not abandon thee, He will not forsake thee, though 
all earthly blessings fail thee, if thou do not for- 
sake him ! Who has ever promised thee that the 
things of this world should be other than fleeting ? 
Who has ^.ver promised that thy sweet dreams 
should prove eternal ? And even if, like Job, 
thou hast been deprived of thy best, thy all, what 
is it that thou hast lost ? — Mere dust and ashes ! 
" The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away ! " 

If thou keepest up thy courage and thy faith, 
thou hast lost nothing ; for God is all in all, and 
all else is naught. And God will be near to thee, 
for thou art his creature; thou art an object of 
his care, of his love T God remains near thee, 
even when the world to thy dimmed eye is 
shrouded in darkness, and the wings of death 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 61 

are waving above thee, — for the goal of thy spirit 
is eternity. 

Blessed wilt thou be if, at the end of thy life's 
journey, thou canst say, with proud consciousness 
of how thou hast passed through every trial : " I 
have fought a good fight, I have finished my 
course, I have kept the faith ! " 

It is an error to believe that virtue can be 
rewarded with earthly goods, with riches, honors, 
health, and all kinds of human enjoyments. No, 
the spirit cannot be rewarded with what belongs 
to the flesh ; its rewards must be spiritual. The 
spirit's nature is immortal ; its joys must be im- 
mortal like itself. Only in as far as we are 
human, that is to say, sensuous beings, do we 
seek for sensuous pleasures. These, however, fall 
to our lot, or are withdrawn from us, quite inde- 
pendently of our virtue and piety. They are the 
results, partly of our prudence and judgment, 
partly of our honest industry, partly of the confi- 
dence with which we have known how to inspire 
others. They are partly, or indeed entirely, the 
consequences of the wise ordinances of the Ruler 
of the world, according as he finds one or another 
auxiliary means better adapted to the qualities of 
our souls. 

It is therefore erroneous to conclude, that be- 
cause a man is visited by corporeal privations, and 
suffers from the loss of earthly goods, that this is a 
punishment of God. It is likewise a mistake to 



62 THE CONSOLATION OF 

look upon wealth, honors, and other gifts of for- 
tune as rewards bestowed by God. The noblest, 
most faithful Christian is often subject to the 
greatest privations. The most audacious rogue, 
who mocks at religion, often accumulates the 
largest fortune. A more glorious recompense 
awaits the righteous ; a more terrible punishment 
than mere bodily privations awaits the sinner. 

It is true that parents encourage their children 
in obedience by bestowing earthly rewards on 
them ; it is true that princes requite the merits of 
their subjects with riches and honors, — not that 
virtue can be paid for in so much money, but 
because princes, not being divinities, cannot requite 
services, cannot testify their esteem, except through 
the bestowal of earthly tokens. 

On the other hand, the sufferings to which as 
mortals we are subject are either self-imposed, — 
in which case, they are painful consequences of 
the abuse which we have made of the gifts and 
capabilities with which God has endowed us, of 
transgressions against his rules, and thus they are 
indeed punishments inflicted by sin upon itself, — > 
or they fall upon us without any fault of our own ; 
and in this case, it is God's will that they should 
be to us what the gifts of fortune may be to 
others, — means for ennobling and perfecting our 
souls. And thus all suffering at length conduces 
to the triumph of the victorious spirit, and opens 
to it a more glorious career in eternity. God is 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 63 

just! Throughout the creation there is nothing 
wrong or unjust. Everything leads upward to 
a glorious end. God the rewarder lives ! And 
what, after all, are the sufferings of this earth 
when compared to the glory to which they con- 
secrate us, by endowing our souls with higher 
strength, power, and dignity ?. 

Besides, the wisdom of the Most High has so 
ordained it, that no pains connected with earth can 
endure forever. Only he who suffers damage in 
his soul, who fails to improve his spirit, — only he 
loses eternally ; because he neglects that which is 
eternal. Habit deprives even the most appalling 
evils of their terrors, and makes the heaviest bur- 
dens lighter. No suffering endures for very long. 
For every wound, however painfully it bleeds, 
time has a soothing balm. Night is ever followed 
by morning, storm by calm. We are dwelling in 
the realm of the transitory ; and as no joy endures 
forever, so also sorrow, want, and anxiety are but 
fleeting clouds in our sky. 

Sustain thy courage, persevere in well-doing, 
keep thy faith and trust in God, and thou wilt 
come triumphant out of the struggle, thy brows 
encircled by the crown of glory, which God, the 
Rewarder, bestoweth. 

Thou art pining in helpless poverty, and can 
see no end to thy tribulations. Thou hast labored 
honestly and industriously, and yet hast laid by 
no store, and each succeeding day makes thee 



64 THE CONSOLATION OF 

tremble more and more for the future. Though 
faithful in the fulfilment of the duties of thy vo- 
cation, though trustful in thy prayers to the Giver 
of all good gifts, thou nevertheless sinkest deeper 
and deeper into poverty and misery. Instead of 
diminishing, thy difficulties increase every day 
with fearful rapidity ; thou seest no means of res- 
cue. Before thy family lies a future full of pain 
and privation, — before thyself a life robbed of 
honor and happiness. Yet man thyself, O un- 
happy mortal ! and though all forsake thee, for- 
sake not thou the path of virtue. Though every 
hope break faithlessly away from thee, do not 
loose thy hold on God ! Save the innocence of 
thy soul, and thou wilt have saved everything. 
Many have been more deeply involved even than 
thou, and yet have been wonderfully rescued by 
Providence. Fight a good fight, and keep thy 
faith. Even when all have forsaken thee, God 
is still thy God. 

And thou, who never sparedst labor or pains 
when thou couldst promote the well-being of thy 
fellow-citizens ; who didst sacrifice the best years 
of thy life, fortune, time, and rest to the welfare 
of others, — why dost thou chafe at the heartless 
ingratitude of men ? They requite thy love with 
shameless calumny, thy noble-mindedness with 
baseness, thy sacrifices with scorn, thy fidelity 
with contempt and desertion. Malice triumphs, 
prejudice prevails, thou succumbest. Yet be of 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. Q£> 

good heart, fight trustfully the good fight to the 
end. There is One who does not misjudge thee ; 
there is One who will deal justly by thee. He 
is the Omniscient, the Rewarder ! Did Jesus 
do less than thee ? Did the world reward him 
better ? 

Thou who art stricken down in the prime of 
thy strength by painful illness, that deprives thee 
of all enjoyment and all hope in life, — despair 
not ! As regards thy earthly prosperity, those 
hours are indeed lost which thou sighest away on 
thy bed of pain ; but to thy soul they are not 
lost. In these bitter moments of agony thou art 
securing higher gain. Thou who once stood 
there so proudly in the fulness of thy health and 
strength, who wert so rich in plans for the future, 
— thou acknowledgest now with fear and trem- 
bling the hand of a Mighty One above thee, 
which rules the fate of worlds, and of the mean- 
est creature. It is his will that has fixed thy 
destiny. It is true thy wealth will suffer, now 
that thy arm fails that kept it up ; it is true thy 
children, almost uncared for, move like orphans 
round thy bed, casting sad and anxious glances 
at thee ; it is true deep sorrow gnaws at the heart 
of thy loving spouse, though she endeavors to 
hide it from thee, — yet do not despair ! A strong 
arm upholds thee, — the arm of Divine Provi- 
dence. And should even thy illness become still 
more painful, thy fortune still more impaired, thy 



6$ THE CONSOLATION OF 

prospects still more hopeless, God is still thy God ! 
Fight the good fight in thy hours of suffering, 
and keep thy faith. Not as thou seest it, but as 
God ordaineth it, will be the fate of thy children. 
And shouldst thou be doomed to part from thy 
loved ones, should the tears in the eyes of thy 
dear relatives be the first tears of the last parting, 
— then blessed art thou ! The Father of all is 
calling thee a few moments earlier into the better 
world. We shall follow thee in a few brief hours, 
after another short dream. Why sorrowest thou 
with faithless anxiety for those who will linger 
on earth but a short time after thee ? Who cared 
for thee, when no mortal watched over thee ? Is 
thy God not also the God of thy dear ones ? 

And thou who with loving heart hast attached 
thyself, as thou thoughtest, to a congenial mind, 
and sought the happiness of life in this friendship 
only, — why art thou so downcast ? Because that 
heart deceived thee? Because those lips only 
feigned the love which thou gavest with all thy 
soul ? Because those eyes falsely smiled on thee ? 
Because thy faith was responded to with base 
perjury, and thy tenderness requited with shame- 
less treachery? Unhappy mourner, thou hast 
indeed lost much ; thy experience has perhaps 
forever embittered thy gentle heart, and robbed 
thee of thy faith in mankind. The treachery 
thou hast met with has perhaps filled thy heart 
forever with disbelief in human virtue. Thou 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 67 

hast no longer a friend in whom thou canst trust, 
to whom thou canst devote thyself. Thou stand- 
est alone in the world ; and without friendship life 
has no attractions for thy delicately moulded soul. 
Nevertheless, bear up manfully. Thou, also, pre- 
pare to fight the good fight of the Christian ; be 
generous-minded to the last ! God is faithful, 
though none else be so ! If the whole world 
deceive thee, there is One who never deceiveth. 
He is thy God, the God of truth and love, the 
God who endowed thy soul with its tender yearn- 
ings. Even shouldst thou be doomed to pass 
through life without an earthly friend, One 
Friend remaineth to thee, — the Eternal Father, 
thy Creator ! If those who are dearest to thee 
abandon thee, let this play of shadows, this con- 
stant shifting of the sublunary scene, strengthen 
thy spirit in self-dependence, and lead thee closer 
to what is eternally true and lasting, — to God. 

Wherefore weepest thou, sorrowing widow, by 
the coffin of thy husband ? And thou, faithful 
child, on the grave of thy father, thy friend ? 
And thou, disconsolate mother, by the bier of thy 
infant ? What is it that they bear to the grave ? 
Is it not merely the mortal coil ? Or can spirits 
die and moulder away in the ground ? Why 
fixest thou thine eyes, sore with weeping, on the 
earth ? Ah ! that which hath fled from thee, that 
which thy eye seeketh, is not there ! Lift thine 
eyes to Heaven, let them penetrate the boundless 



68 THE CONSOLATION OF 

universe ! Thy friend is there. The mysterious 
power which animated the dust, and which we 
call soul, the same that so often smiled lovingly 
on thee through tender eyes, that spoke to thee 
from friendly lips, now with solemn earnestness, 
now with joyful mirth, — it has gone to God, is 
with God, has entered mto more glorious con- 
nections, into higher spheres of action, is more 
elevated, freer, happier, more perfect than thou ! 
Why, then, turn thine eyes upon the grave ? the 
ashes that lie buried there were only a borrowed 
raiment, did not belong to the immortal being, — 
were but an instrument useful for a short time 
here below, now no longer needed. The soul 
has finished its course in this world, has fought 
the fight, and kept its faith. Henceforth it wears 
the crown of immortality ! Man thyself, O 
mourner, and thou, also, prepare to fight the good 
fight. The loved one whom thou hast lost will 
one day advance to meet thee at the gate of 
eternity, to greet thee as a glorified companion, 
and will cry unto thee : Here, also, God is thy 
God! 

O God! O Father! thou art also my God, 
my Father ; why, then, should I be bowed down 
with grief? Why weakly yield myself up before 
my course is finished, before I have fought the 
good fight to the end ? O give me strength, 
give me power! whatever suffering thou mayst 
impose, I will bear it, for it will bring me nearer 
to thee ! 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 69 

Father, for each earthly pleasure 

Heart-felt thanks from me receive, — 
Thanks, should grief o'erflow the measure, 

Father, still to thee I give. 
Shouldst thou take them both from me, 
Yet more gladly praise I thee. 

In the sweet and smiling spring, 

When true friends around me stand, 
Though each hour new joys may bring, 

Hopes fulfilled as soon as planned, — 
Yet I sadly seem to see 
All earth's joys are vanity. 

What to Earth and Time, though bright, 

Is the joy that can enchain 1 
No, my spirit strives with might 

Immortality to gain. 
Only one pure joy I see, — 
Holy, and in God to be. 

Soon, soon ! shall all be done, 

Peaceful rest I, Lord, in thee ; 
Thousands have the victory won, 

I, too, shall win the victory. 
More loudly yet than thunder's voice, 
My heart outcries, believe, — rejoice ! 

Yes, I believe, till life shall close, 

The God I trust will ne'er forsake. 
On him, in hope, will I repose, 

Although the last fond tie should break. 
Can I but hold him for my own, 
Then shall I never stand alone. 

Look, Lord, with pity on my tears, 
Behold my cares, — my fallen state ; 



TO 



THE PATIENT SUFFERER 



Comforter, come, relieve my fears. 

O, I am left so desolate ! 
Sustain me, Helper ; ease my smart ; 
Send joy and peace into my heart. 



And yet, O Father, not my will, 
But thine alone, be done on me. 

Though, like the patient Jesus, still 
I wander through Gethsemane, 

At last, my God, when all is done, 

The glorious guerdon shall be won. 



THE SICK 




In silence will I bear the pain 

Which God has sent me by his will, — 
Ne'er will I murmur nor complain ; 

Although be wound, he loves me still, — 
In sickness not the less God's child 
Than if the world around me smiled. 
True to himself, God changes never, — 
"Wise, mighty, merciful, forever. 

(St. Matt. xxv. 36.) 



MONG the manifold misfortunes that 
may befall humanity, the loss of 



severest. All 
give cannot 



health is one of the 

the joys that life can 
outweigh the sufferings of the sick. Give the 
sick man everything, and leave him his sufferings, 
and he will feel that half the world is lost to him. 
Lay him on a soft, silken couch, he will never- 
theless groan sleepless under the pressure of his 
sufferings ; while the miserable beggar, blessed 
with health, sleeps sweetly on the hard ground. 
Spread Ms tables with dainty meats and choice 
drinks, and he will thrust back the hand that 
proffers them, and envy the poor man who 
thoroughly enjoys his dry crust. Surround him 



72 THE SICK. 

with the pomp of kings ; let his chair be a throne, 
and his crutch a world-swaying sceptre ; he will 
look with contemptuous eye on marble, on gold, 
and on purple, and would deem himself happy 
could he enjoy, even were it under a thatched 
roof, the health of the meanest of his servants. 

Hence the sight of a sick person is painful to 
all. Who can behold without pity and emotion 
the wan cheek, the dimmed eye, and the ema- 
ciated form ? Even the rude warrior checks 
his ruthless passion at this sight, and spares the 
sufferer. 

A sick person is a sacred object to every Chris- 
tian, and ought to be so. Even levity grows 
earnest at the side of the sick-bed. 

Perhaps thou wert once thyself such a pitiable 
object ; if so, remember the days of thy suffer- 
ing. Thou didst then gain great and weighty 
experiences. Come with me in spirit now to the 
bedside of a languishing fellow-being, and renew 
there the thoughts and resolves of those days. 

But if thou hast not yet learnt what it is to lose 
health, the day may come when thou shalt make 
that sad experience. Prepare thyself like a sage 
against that time of trial. Learn to love the sick 
and to nurse them with tender care, that thou, 
like them, mayst one day be thus honored and 
tended. 

Disease is not necessarily connected with life. 
Originally man was made perfect in all his parts. 



THE SICK. 73 

Thousands go through life without ever having 
experienced any derangement of their physical 
organization. To them even approaching death 
brings no illness. They die because the last drop 
of life's oil in their lamp has been consumed ; they 
sleep away in sweet weariness, like the reaper in 
autumn when his daily task is completed. 

If we have not inherited lhe germs of disease 
from our parents, it is generally to our own im- 
prudence or thoughtlessness that may be attrib- 
uted the loss of life's best gift, — the health of 
our bodies, — the partial destruction of the instru- 
ment through which our souls are to work and 
do useful service. 

In every case, observe the nature of thy body, 
and regulate thy life accordingly. Observe its 
laws in thy nourishment, thy drink, thy pleasures, 
and thy mode of working in thy vocation. Nev- 
er forget that one single hour of intemperance 
may be the parent of long years of suffering. 
Never forget that one moment of guilty self-for- 
getfulness in the midst of joy, suffices to poison 
thy cup of bliss. 

Man's body is not his inalienable possession ; it 
is a loan from the hand of God, which we shall 
one day have to give up, — an instrument of the 
spirit, without which the latter cannot fulfil its 
appointed work on earth. If man deserve pun- 
ishment for sin, then assuredly he deserves it 
when he sins against his own body ; for he there- 



74 THE SICK. 

by robs himself of the joy of life, and of the 
capacity, for a long time, and perhaps forever, of 
doing as much good as he might otherwise do. 

Not only do we, by carelessness of our health, 
render ourselves incapable of fulfilling adequately 
our duties to God, our country, and our fellow- 
citizens, to strangers, and to friends ; but we may 
even, though subsequently apparently restored to 
health, in reality have hastened the approach of 
the hour of death. The man wanting in moder- 
ation — whether it be, that with careless pre- 
sumption he expose himself unnecessarily to 
danger, or that by exaggerated care he render 
himself over-delicate — may be said to be a self- 
murderer, though against his will and desire. 

Again, the germs of disease are often trans- 
mitted from parents to children : the maladies 
of one generation thus become the ailments and 
sufferings of a distant posterity. Therefore guard 
reverently the health of your bodies, that your 
children may not one day upbraid you with their 
diseases ; that the follies of one brief moment of 
your existence may not become a source of mis- 
ery to your children's children ! It is this that 
the Scriptures allude to, when they say, the sins 
of parents are punished unto the third and fourth 
generation. 

Often place yourself, in spirit, by the bedside 
of the sick. It may be to you a school of wis- 
dom. When the sunken eye and deathly pallor 



THE SICK. 75 

of the poor sufferer make you tremble, the re- 
solve will be strengthened in you to avoid every- 
thing that may injure your own health. 

But watch not only over thyself; watch also 
over the health of thy companions. Tempt not 
others to immoderate pleasures ; lead them not 
into dissipation that may breed disease. What 
satisfaction will it be to thee, when thou hast 
robbed them of the sweet bloom of health, when 
thou hast become, as it were, the destroyer of 
their best joy in life ? 

Nevertheless, this is a point in regard to which 
even good people, without malice and without 
premeditation, but in the tumult of pleasure, so 
frequently err. Their example and their en- 
couragement excite weaker persons to indulge 
in undue gratifications. In the very endeavor 
to give their friend a proof of affection, they 
frequently become his poisoner, his destroyer. 
Neither the malice nor the cruelty of man is so 
dangerous as his thoughtless levity. 

Honor, O Christian, in thyself as in others, the 
sanctity of health ! Perform towards the sick 
the holy duty of benevolence ! 

Be a friend to the sick, as was Jesus, that sub- 
lime example of what we ought and what we 
ought not to be. Did he not go, with helping 
hand, to the bedside of the sick ? Was it not he 
who lovingly called unto him the lame and the 
blind, the leper and the man sick of the palsy ? 



76 THE SICK. 

Was lie not the refuge of all sufferers ? Did 
they not let themselves be carried unto him, 
when they learnt that the Divine Friend of suf- 
fering humanity was nigh ? Thou, who callest 
thyself Christian, be a Christian in truth, — fol- 
lower of Jesus, be what Jesus was ! 

It is true, thy hand can perform no miracle ; 
but it can perform acts of kindness ! Thy arm 
cannot raise up the hopelessly sick, and place him 
again in the blooming realm of health, nor can it 
stay death ; but it can lovingly support the weak. 
At thy bidding, it is true, all pains will not van- 
ish ; but thy words may comfort, may give coun- 
sel and cheerfulness to one whom every earthly 
joy fails because he lacks health. 

" I have been sick, and ye have not visited 
me ! " will be the words of Jesus to those who 
have uncharitably left the sick without tender 
care. 

Help, more especially, the poor sick stranger ! 
Those that are at home will be tended by their 
sorrowing relatives. The rich will not lack nurs- 
ing, for every one will be willing to minister to 
them, and they have the means of procuring for 
themselves all that they require, and everything 
that may tend to soothe their sufferings. But 
who is there to minister to the poor? Perhaps 
not even an unfeeling hireling. Who is there to 
take care of the suffering stranger ? Ah, perhaps, 
no one, while his brothers and sisters are grieving 
over him at a distance. 



THE SICK. 77 

You often long to be able to do some good. 
You think, perhaps, that when you have chari- 
tably given alms to the beggar in the street, you 
have done enough. But how little is this ! God 
has given you more, far more than this ; and yet 
how helpless and poor did you not come into the 
world ? Go, and give more than alms. Remem- 
ber the words of Jesus, and let them resound in 
your hearts : " What ye have done to the least of 
these, ye have done to me." 

Go forth and visit the abode of poverty and 
misery, and behold there the hungering father and 
the starving mother on the comfortless bed of sick- 
ness, with no one to nurse them, no one to advise, 
without a doctor and without medicine, surrounded 
by terrified and weeping children : there is the 
post of honor for thee ; there is the field in which 
thou art called to sow blessed seeds for eternity ; 
there is the path that will lead thee to glory. If 
God have bestowed upon thee in rich measure, or 
even in moderation, the goods of this earth, then 
seek out the poor families in thy neighborhood; 
inquire how they live ; find out if there be any 
sick among them, and if so, be thou their minis- 
tering angel ! 

In many cases the alms which you fling to a 
professional beggar in the street are no more than 
an encouragement to his laziness, a premium to 
his want of thrift and order. But could you be- 
hold with your eyes the interior of many a poor 



78 THE SICK. 

home, those eyes would weep tears of blood. It 
would startle you to discover such nameless mis- 
ery in a hovel at the side of the pomp and luxury 
of the neighboring palace. You would shudder 
at the thought that, in a Christian city, there could 
be so much unalleviated suffering, — so much un- 
known sorrow among so many thousands of joyful 
beings. Though the sick Lazarus, covered with 
sores, may not in our day always be found out- 
side the rich man's door, endeavoring to stay his 
hunger with the crumbs that fall from the rich 
man's table, he may be found in a dwelling close 
by, where his groans are heard by the omnipres- 
ent God alone. 

If it be in thy power, remember the sick stranger 
with charitable institutions for his benefit. It was 
one of the most praiseworthy customs of our fore- 
fathers that, when blessed with riches, they ap- 
plied part of these to founding pious and char- 
itable institutions. God bestowed upon them 
bountiful superfluity, and by their last testaments 
they gratefully returned a share of it to God. 
Their pious hearts, which called God the Father 
of all, were open to love of their poorer fellow- 
men ; and when the time came, the needy were 
found numbered among their heirs. 

In many places, this excellent, truly Christian 
custom is only occasionally followed ; in others, it 
has ceased to exist. Our fathers died, but to this 
day thousands of sick persons, who are nursed in 



THE SICK. 79 

the institutions founded by their benevolence, send 
up grateful prayers for then unknown and long 
deceased benefactors. Will future generations 
pray thus for us ? O, ye wealthy of the earth, 
your children's children will glance with indiffer- 
ence at the marble mausoleums you have erected 
for yourselves. They will smile contemptuously 
at the futile vanity which made you surround 
yourselves with pomp even in the grave. A grate- 
ful tear shed by a poor sufferer who had been re- 
lieved in an institution which perpetuated your 
kindness, even after your death, would have been 
of more worth than the cold drop which the artist's 
chisel fashions on the marble statue above your 
graves. This tear will crumble away with the 
stone in which it is cut ; the poor man's tear will 
be registered in heaven. 

Let us return to the good old custom of our 
fathers ; let us remember on our bed of sickness 
those helpless sufferers who have no one to take 
care of them as we have ; and let us contribute to 
allay their pains, even after God has put an end 
to ours. 

Honor, wherever thou meetest them, the suffer- 
ings of thy sick fellow-creature. Wert thou not 
his friend before, become so when he suffers. 
Wert thou even once his enemy, go to him, and 
be reconciled. If he have offended thee, go to 
him and pardon him his trespass, that he may part 
from thee and from life with a more cheerful 



80 THE SICK. 

spirit. If he have reason to be angered with thee, 
go to him and seek his forgiveness. Let no one 
depart from thee in anger, that in eternity there 
may be no being willing to stand forth and accuse 
thee. 

Sooner or later thou may est thyself be thrown 
upon a bed of sickness. No balm, no draught will 
then be so potent to soothe as the thought, that no 
fellow-being bears anger against thee ; that though 
many a kind heart will send a sigh of regret after 
thee into eternity, not one will curse thee ! 

Glorify thy .Christian faith in thy hour of suf- 
fering, by patience and pious resignation to the 
will of thy Creator, who has ever guided thee, 
and who will be thy guide henceforward as 
heretofore. And glorify thy faith in God's provi- 
dence by quiescent trust, and calm abiding, and 
cheerful resignation. Wish not for dissolution, 
neither fear the quiet sleep of death. Millions 
have died before thee, millions will die after thee ; 
it is the Divine law that rules the universe ; it is 
for the good of the world. Thou hast indeed 
died many a time already. As often in thy life 
as thou hast fallen asleep, thou hast tasted death, 
for it is but the last sleep. It is not thyself that 
sleepest away, but only thy body. Thy soul 
sleepeth not; it keeps vigil with God, it lives 
near him, it draws nigh to more blissful spheres, 
and smiles at its own past fears. 
And suppose thy illness should not prove deadly, 



THE SICK. 81 

but that thou art destined to recover. Is this, 
then, so great a happiness ? Thou wilt step back 
from the open grave only to approach it again in 
a few years. Thy earthly dream will be pro- 
longed for a few moments, and thy entrance into 
the glory of the better world which awaits thee, 
according to Jesus's promise, will be delayed for a 
few days. 

Even on thy bed of sickness, cease not thy 
works of charity. Even on thy bed of sickness, 
do good without ceasing. Shouldst thou in the 
days of health have neglected to do it, do it now 
while there is yet time. Let not a day of thy life 
pass by without an act of Christian love. The 
remembrance of thy well-doing will be thy happi- 
ness in death. 

But in sickness as in health, at all times alike, 
the true Christian is ready to exchange the transi- 
tory for the eternal. Not that it would be right 
to dwell constantly upon the subject of death. 
Nay, it would be folly to mar by sad thoughts the 
many blessings which we receive here below from 
the bountiful hand of God. But live as if thou 
wert to be called away from this world suddenly 
and unexpectedly. Prepare thy soul that it may 
be ready to depart at any moment. Put thy 
house in order, that, when sickness and death 
overtake thee, thou shalt be found to have fulfilled 
thy every duty towards those that depend on thee. 
Put thy house in order. Attend at all times to 

. 4* F 



82 THE SICK. 

thy avocations with such care and fidelity, that 
thy relatives, when they lose thee, may not have 
to sustain a double loss, — a twofold trial. When 
in health, thou providest for those that be- 
long to thee with tender solicitude ; but reflect, 
would they be provided for, if, this very day, 
some untoward accident should suddenly tear thee 
from them, and to-morrow they should stand 
alone with tearful eyes, without thee to lean 
upon ? Flatter not thyself with the hope that 
thou wilt have time during long and lingering ill- 
ness to put thy house in order. Dost thou not 
each week see men called away in the prime of 
their manhood ? Dost thou not see others whom 
protracted illness has deprived of all power and 
desire to attend to serious business ? 

The true Christian proves himself such by 
being ever ready, ever prepared in all his rela- 
tions, whether as a citizen of this world or of 
eternity. He passes cheerfully and composedly 
through life, for his accounts, both as regards this 
world and the next, are at all times made up. 

Thus let it be with me, my God and Father ! 
The best Christian is the greatest man on earth. 
He looks with equal calm to the past and to the 
future ; he stands in equally happy relations to 
both. He is a true hero, for while gratefully 
enjoying the pleasures of life which thou, O 
Father, vouchsafest to him, his spirit dwelleth in 
anticipation in the realms of eternity. He is 



THE SICK. 83 

above every accident, for none can take him by 
surprise ; he is greater than any fate that may 
befall him, for trusting in thee, O my God, his 
spirit soars above all sublunary things. 

Such let me be, let me become ! Let my death 
be such that it may teach others how to live ; and 
let my life be such that it may teach others how 
to die joyfully ! Thus lived, thus died, my Sav- 
iour. He who won heavenly bliss for me, Jesus, 
my divine teacher. He was the faithful friend 
of the sick, — their adviser, their comforter. I 
will be the same, as far as my feeble powers will 
allow. 

Yea, Father ! be thou my relief; 
My comforter in pain and grief, — 

Make sickness' self a gain to me ; 
Draw my heart, all sad hearts that bleed, 
Through all their pangs, in every need, 

Unto thy love, and unto thee. 

Jesus ! to thee my heart appeals, — 
help ! for thou art he who heals. 

The sorest pain canst thou make light, 
Our sickness e'en thou send'st to bless, — 
Thou art our refuge in distress, 

Our tears are ever in thy sight. 

To thee my trust, my faith, shall hold. 

never let my love wax cold, 
Health, sickness, whatsoe'er befall. 

Then can no pangs my spirit shake, 

1 joy to bear them for thy sake. 

My grateful heart gives thanks for all. 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 



Part I. 



Let everything that liveth praise the Lord ! — 
Deep in our spirit the responsive chord 
Awakes devotion, and a holy joy 
Which knoweth no alloy. 

Try him, and prove him, and see how bountiful he is. 
Truth and compassion, tender love, are his. 
Reigning forever, o'er us and around, 
Still is his mercy found. 

Let everything that loveth, love the Lord ! 
High on his throne, by all the saints adored, 
Seraph and cherub, — all the heavenly host, — 
Happiest, who love him most. ( 

Thirst then, our souls, like the blest souls above, 
Holy and happy, evermore to love 
Him who created us, who keeps us still 
By his most gracious will. 

All hail ! We love him evermore. The dust 
Loves its Consoler, puts in him its trust. 
All eager longings he will satisfy, — 
Tears he himself will dry. 

(St. Matt. v. 8.) 

WILL lift myself out of the slough 
of this world, I will rise above the 
storms of this life, and lay hold on 
those higher things that afford lasting 
peace of mind, indestructible happiness. What 




A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 85 

is to me the noisy tumult of the world, amid 
which I never feel perfectly satisfied, — where 
every light has its shadow, and where every joy 
has its attendant woe ? Can I there live entirely 
to myself, entirely possess myself? No, I am 
there the victim of every evil ; of care, and 
trouble, and vain wishes, of wrecked hopes, of 
sad events, and of wearisome pleasures. I am 
never less lonely than when, alone, engaged in 
silent meditation, I lift up my soul to thee, Lord 
of all destinies. I pity those who have never 
enjoyed such an hour, and happily their number 
is small ; for even to the most frivolous worldling 
there comes at length a moment — perhaps, in- 
deed, it comes sooner to him than to others — 
when pleasure palls upon him, when he feels 
society a burden, or, at least, when he derives 
but little gratification from it ; when he yearns 
for something different, when, meditating on the 
worthlessness of the life of trifling he leads, he 
begins to have a presentiment of a better state, 
and ardently to desire it. 

And yet he fails to lay hold on it. For it seems 
to him incredible that it should be in the bosom 
of the highest wisdom, in the sanctity of religion, 
that he is to seek for it. Religion, as he feels it, 
inspires him with too little respect. It is to him 
no more than a confused medley of vague and 
disjointed sentences and precepts, which have 
remained in his memory since childhood, but 



86 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

which he has never reflected upon or endeavored 
to systematize. He wonders that people should 
affect to find therein matters of such importance, 
and perhaps he smiles compassionately at their 
folly ; and he returns, though with failing heart, 
to his former mode of life, to his accustomed 
amusements, soon again to weary of them, and 
soon again to feel that he has no joy in such ex- 
istence. 

So far, indeed, he is right: the disconnected 
fragments of Biblical phrases learnt by rote in 
childhood, which he calls his religion, and which 
he discards from his thoughts the moment the 
church service (which he attends merely because 
it is customary so to do) is over, that is in truth 
a poor religion. But this has no affinity with the 
religion which Jesus the Messiah revealed to us. 
His religion is not a matter of memory, nor a 
matter of routine, but a hving power of God in 
the human soul. 

However, thousands drag on through life in 
this way, following their craft, their art, their 
trade, their studies ; allowing themselves, in times 
of war as in times of peace, to be consumed by 
fleeting pleasures and long-enduring pains. They 
commit their happiness, their contentment, to the 
rule of chance ; believe that they can after all do 
nothing towards securing it themselves ; and are 
totally ignorant that it is in man's power to be 
lastingly happy, — to enjoy, here on earth already, 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 87 

a foretaste of heaven. At length, possibly, they 
learn to despise all pleasures, and sometimes be- 
come discontented grumblers whom nothing can 
satisfy, — haters of their kind, and despisers of 
their own life, because they have not learnt to 
know true pleasure. 

There are again others, wiser than these, who, 
strengthened by religion, or animated and exalted 
by nobler sentiments, do not deny the value of 
this worldly life. But they deplore the fleeting 
character of all pleasure. " I also was at one 
time thoroughly happy, and enjoyed a foretaste 
of Heaven," say many. " I seemed to be steeped 
hi happiness. But — how soon did not my dream 
vanish ! Yes, it was but a dream, and now it lies 
far behind me in the realm of the past, like a 
fading shadow. Soon the very memory of it will 
be almost lost to me. I shall then continue my 
way through the monotonous dulness of every- 
day life, as through a desert." 

Let every man take a retrospect of the days 
that lie behind him, reflect upon them, and then 
ask himself: " Which period of my life was the 
happiest? Which was the sweetest moment I 
ever enjoyed ? " 

Many of us will at once recall to mind the in- 
nocent days and delights of childhood, those days 
when life was colored with the rosy light of morn. 
Then the merest trifle seemed a treasure, a flower 
was a jewel in our estimation, and a walk our 



88 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

greatest happiness. Everything was invested in 
our eyes with a higher significance ; our own joy- 
ous souls seemed to infuse themselves even into 
the lifeless things that surrounded us, and we 
talked to and loved objects that could not return 
our affection. With happy carelessness we skipped 
over the thorns in our path, and whatever wounded 
us was forgotten as soon as the tear was dry that 
the pain had called forth. O, what brilliant 
prospects all thoughts of the future then conjured 
up ! What great expectations did not others en- 
tertain in regard to us, and did we not ourselves 
entertain as to what we should perform in later 
years ! " Yes ; that was the happiest period of 
my life ! " many will exclaim. 

I believe it ; yet, when I look nearer into the 
matter, it seems to me that each age has its own 
pleasure which God has ordained for our enjoy- 
ment. It cannot be our destiny to remain chil- 
dren forever, — who indeed would wish it to be 
so ? Who would desire to return to that dream 
of the past, out of which we see every child long- 
ing to emerge, that it may take part in the pleas- 
ures of an older age ? It would be sad were 
there no higher felicity in life than that of the 
child, for that we can never recall. It seems to 
me that that only can be the. highest happiness 
which each human being may, with a resolute 
will, renew at any time. 

But let us examine more closely what consti- 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 89 

tuted our happiness when we were children. Was 
it the outward things that surrounded us ? Was it 
riches, pomp, and honors ? Ah, no ! Seated on 
a heap of sand, we thought ourselves richer than 
kings ; with a few boards we built ourselves pal- 
aces ; a little picture would fill us with delight. 
Why was this ? Surely the source of these joys 
lay within us, not in the outward world. We 
were content with what we possessed, and, like 
the bee, we sucked honey even from the lowliest 
flower. We took no care for the morrow; for 
we believed that each day had its own joys, and 
we thought only of the present. If we had rai- 
ment and food sufficient, we asked not for more. 
We had light hearts ; and although we knew 
then, in reference to the smaller things of life, as 
well as we do now, in reference to the greater, 
that much that was disagreeable had to be en- 
countered, that many tears would necessarily be 
shed, that many fears would be excited, yet we 
never dwelt long on what occasioned us dissatis- 
faction ; but, on the contrary, only felt the happier 
for having escaped from some cause of fear, only 
rejoiced the more when we had been relieved 
from some state of pain. For this reason we 
seldom repined. We were joyous because we 
anticipated not evil, because our hearts were pure 
and our consciences unburdened. Let us recall to 
mind the bitterest moments of our childhood ! 
Were they not those in which we had for the 



90 ^ FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

first time done wrong, and in which we feared 
discovery, and looked forward with trembling tc 
the punishment that awaited us ? But this very 
fear served as a correction. We resisted the sin 
the next time it lured us. When the punishment 
had been submitted to, the guilt expiated, we 
again skipped merrily through life. 

Alas ! wherefore have we forgotten the wisdom 
of our youth ? wherefore have we become more 
full of folly in old age than when we were in 
childhood ? Wherefore do we with unpardonable 
self-deception, instead of seeking our happiness 
and welfare within ourselves, expect it from cir- 
cumstances that lie beyond us, and which after all 
only assume, in regard to us, the character with 
which we ourselves invest them ? Why do our 
thoughts attach themselves with senseless obsti- 
nacy to all that is disagreeable, rather than to 
that which is innocently pleasurable ? Why are 
our hearts no longer so contented as at that time, 
when we extracted pleasures from trifles ? Why 
is our position not sufficiently exalted, our income 
not sufficiently large, our apparel, our furniture 
not costly enough, although all are far better than 
the humble cottage that once satisfied us ? Why 
is it that we are forever troubled by a secret and 
never-ceasing anxiety, a restless" consciousness of 
wrong ? Why is it that we never enjoy a 
pleasure without being aware of some admixture 
of bitterness in it ? 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 91 

Because we have deserted the wisdom that 
belongs to the age of childhood? Neither the 
world, nor the people that surround us, have 
changed since then ; the change is in ourselves. 
We have been untrue to ourselves, and have 
attached ourselves to outward things as though 
they could give us back the lost happiness ; and 
we pursue them with blind ardor, yet never feel 
the bliss of former days. It is not an angel, but 
our own vanity, ambition, covetousness, and luxu- 
riousness, our own pride, cunning, envy, and 
hatred, that have driven us forth from the para- 
dise of youth. " Except ye become as little 
children," said Jesus Christ, the wisest of the 
wise, " ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." 

If, therefore, thou believest the period of thy 
early youth to have been the happiest of thy life, 
forget not why it was so. It depends upon thy- 
self whether the heaven of thy childhood shall 
spread over thy later days also. Become again 
what thou wert then ; simple, pious, forgiving, 
loving, content with little, and the foretaste of 
heaven which thou then enjoyed, thou wilt again 
experience. Thou wilt then understand Jesus, 
the wisest of the wise, whose words thou hast, 
perhaps, often perused, but without entirely com- 
prehending their deep wisdom. 

There are, however, many persons whose hap- 
piness in childhood has been disturbed by sickness, 
by the cruelty of a step-father or a step-mother, 



92 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

or by other misfortunes, and who cannot, there- 
fore, reckon those years among their happiest. 
But if thou belongest to these, which was the 
most delightful period of the other portion of thy 
life ? Perhaps that in which thy heart first 
opened to love, when the privileged day had 
come, and as youth, or as maiden, thou madest 
thy first independent step in the world. Thou 
still rememherest those hours of sweet reverie, 
thy hopes, thy longings. Heaven and earth 
seemed to grow brighter under the influence of 
the inexpressible feelings which then moved thy 
heart. Thy every thought was devoted to the 
beloved object. Everything connected with it 
assumed higher value in thine eyes. A look was 
enough to make thee happy ; the simplest gift 
was prized by thee above a crown ; the first 
flower received from the hand of thy beloved 
thou wouldst not have exchanged for the costli- 
est jewel. Thou didst enter a second 'time the 
heaven of thy childhood, but with new feelings, 
with a new spirit. What a divine halo seemed 
spread around everything, and how full of noble 
virtues the beloved object ! How often in thy 
humility thou didst deem thyself unworthy of the 
love granted thee ! How earnestly thou strovest 
to improve thyself, and to please by higher quali- 
ties ! How much bliss was there not often in thy 
sorrow, and how much comfort even in thy pains ! 
What elevated resolves passed at that period 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 93 

through thy soul ! How thou didst blush at every 
vice, at every impure thought and action ! 

" I, also, was once in paradise ! " cry many, in 
whom the memory of those by-gone days is re- 
vived. " I was full of happiness ! And yet it 
was no more than a delirium of the imagination, 
a foolish self-delusion. Too soon, alas ! I awoke 
from my dream, and, when more calm, I perceived 
that the many perfections I had beheld in the be- 
loved object, either did not exist at all, or only 
in very small measure." 

.Yes, such w r as thy experience ; but, neverthe- 
less, those days count among the happiest of thy 
earthly existence. Where, then, was the source 
of the bliss that filled thy heart ? It was not in 
the outer world, — for thou hast just confessed that 
thou hadst deceived thyself; nay, the heavenly 
being that thou lovedst was within thee, and thou 
didst paint its image on the outer world. Thou 
didst love the perfect, noble duty, the grace of 
goodness, the sublimity of truth, — not perfidy, 
not vainglory, not riches, not rank. Thou lov- 
edst, and thy love lent, beauty even to the defects 
of its object. 

The awakening of first love is but a revival of 
the innocence of youth, and of the reverence for 
the divine element in the nature of man ! And 
that divine element which thou reverest was in 
thyself, and thou now callest it delusion, because 
thou failedst to find out of thyself that ideal of 



94 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

every perfection that thou believedst to have dis- 
covered within thyself. 

Why hast thou never since then enjoyed an 
equal measure of happiness ? Why hast thou 
cast away with the delusion, the bliss-inspiring 
love of the Divine and the Perfect ? Why hast 
thou not sought the ideal within thyself, since 
thou couldst not find it elsewhere ? Why dost 
thou not exert thy powers to gain for thyself that 
rare perfection, that grace of goodness, that sub- 
limity of truth, the conception of which caused 
thee so much delight ? Why dost thou cease to 
adorn thyself, as before, with nobler qualities in 
order to please thy beloved ? Why dost thou not 
now, as then, shun everything impure, every 
vicious passion, every vice ? If thou didst, thou 
wouldst still be full of bliss, for the world would 
honor thee, and the approval of God would raise 
thee above all the pains of earth. Ah, degener- 
ate man ! hadst thou remained true to thy youth- 
ful ideal of perfection, thou wouldst even to this 
day enjoy a foretaste of heaven ! 

But thou hast been untrue to thyself, to the 
nobler nature within thee. Thou didst not find 
in others all the perfections which thou wor- 
shipped ; and in consequence thou forgottest thy- 
self, thou becamest base and bad as others, per- 
haps even worse than they. To this dost thou 
owe that thy heaven has fled from thee. 

O Lord, my God, Creator of the heavenly bliss 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. % 

enjoyed on earth, I also was once full of bliss, and 
I enjoyed the foretaste of higher things. Ah ! in 
like manner as thou gavest it to the first human 
being, made in thine image, thou bestowest to 
this day with inexhaustible bounty a paradise on 
each earth-born soul. How long he shall retain 
it depends upon himself. It is his as long as he 
remains virtuous, as long as he does thy will, as 
long as he continues to be pure in heart, as long 
as he does not desecrate the Divine element 
within himself. But the impure desire for out- 
ward happiness drives him out of his Eden, and 
he sees thee no longer. His eyes are fixed 
greedily on the goods of this lower world, as are 
those of the unreasoning brute, instead of being 
uplifted to the heavenly gift, as beseems those 
who are made in thine image. 

A second time the way to the lost paradise has 
been opened to us, by thee, O blessed One who 
took pity on the world, Saviour, Divine Teacher, 
by thee and by thy word ! Why do we close our 
ears against thy voice ? The greatest desire of 
all men is to be perfectly happy ; in the days of 
childhood, and of sweet adolescence, the magic 
power of virtue affords us a foretaste of the high- 
est bliss ; — why do we not, O Jesus, truly under- 
stand the wisdom in thy words : "Blessed are 
the pure in heart, for they shall see God " ? 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 



Part Ilr 

If I trust in God alone, 

If I feel he is mine own, 

If my heart until I die * 

Ne'er forget his constancy, 

Naught of sorrow can I know, 

Feel naught but love, devotion, joy o'erflow. 

If in him my soul is blest, 
Willingly I leave the rest ; 
Tread in faith my pilgrim road, 
Trusting only in my God. 
Earthly troubles, faint and dim, 
Eade into nothing while I rest on him. 

Where in God's own sight I stand, 

There only is my fatherland ; 

Every gift he sends me thence 

Is proof of my inberitance. 

Kindred and friends long mourned in vain, 

With youth renewed, there shall I meet again. 

(Rom. v. 3.) 




nature, 



EA, I know it, I believe it, and I fee] 
it ; I see it in every event of my life, 
in the various destinies of my fellow- 
creatures, in all the splendid works of 

that sublime and eternal temple of God, 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 97 

— that the all-loving Father has created us chil- 
dren of the earth for perfect happiness, that we 
way already here below enjoy a foretaste of heav- 
enly bliss ; but that the source of our delights, as 
the source of our pains, is in our own bosoms, — 
springs from our virtues or our vices. 

How unutterably happy must not the man feel, 
whose heart has not one thing to upbraid him with 
in respect to any of his relations in life ; who does 
not permit his mind to be unduly disturbed by 
cares of any kind ; who does not allow either un- 
bridled anger, or unrestrained affection, to lead 
him into any excess ! In him dwells a sublime 
calm, of which ordinary men can hardly form a 
conception, — that calm which is the true peace 
of God. 

Have you ever passed a fine spring morning 
alone amid the new-born beauties of nature ? 
When, at such a time, you have been roving in 
the shade of peaceful groves, through the green 
canopy of which the rosy waves of sunlight broke ; 
when the soft breath of morn was wafted across 
the verdant landscape, and the numberless flower- 
ets shivered, and the dew on the leaflets glittered 
in the tears of joy which heaven had shed at the 
holiness and goodness of the Creator; and the 
cascade leaping from the rock, and the river in its 
bed, and the forest on the hill, sent forth solemn 
murmurs; while high up above, and deep down 
below, the air resounded with the wonderful song 
5 



98 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

of birds, and the buzzing of insects, — what 
were your feelings ? Did not a sense of inex- 
pressible delight flash through your bosom ? You 
drew a deep breath ; your body seemed ethereal- 
ized ; you felt as if you must join your voice to 
the voices of the air, as if you must mix your 
tears with the tears of heaven; you longed for 
the wings of rosy morn to soar up high into the 
empyrean, or to sink into the green depths of the 
forests, or to lose yourself in the blue haze that 
veiled the unknown distance. You longed to 
pour your love through the entire world. 

Did you ever He down on the top of a mountain, 
whence you beheld a wide landscape with its 
fields and cottages spread in silent repose before 
your eyes ? In your bosom also perfect quiet 
reigned ! You forgot all your domestic cares ; 
no sorrow weighed on your spirits, no unpleasant 
remembrance disturbed the beneficent calm, no 
passion dared to intrude to break the holy peace 
of your soul, and a voice within whispered, 
*' Blessed were I, could I forever remain thus ! " 
What you then felt was a fleeting foretaste of 
heaven, which sometimes even passionate, unqui- 
et spirits are allowed to enjoy, in order that they 
may look into themselves, and earnestly reflect 
how they might perpetuate this tranquil and bless- 
ed state. What you then felt was the peace of 
God, which the virtuous and wise, which the true 
followers of Christ, experience even in the midst 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 99 

of the greatest tribulation, and which raises them 
above it. You were happy in the moments al- 
luded to, because you learnt then to forget your- 
selves, because you were free from the mundane 
desires which regained possession of you as soon 
as you re-entered your homes. But woe to him 
who, in order thoroughly to enjoy life, must 
learn to forget himself! This is a proof, either 
that his heart is burdened with the consciousness 
of many sins, or that it is oppressed with cares 
and unsatisfied wants, springing from his vanity, 
his frivolity, his covetousness, or other impure 
tendencies ; or that when he acts, he does not act 
wisely, and that what he possesses he does not 
possess with wisdom ; but that he allows himself 
to be consumed by a thousand vain and petty 
cares, and creates for himself sorrows which he 
will eventually discover to have been unnecessary. 
The true disciple of Jesus never needs to for- 
get himself in order to be cheerful in his very 
innermost soul. On the contrary, it is when he 
examines his inward being, and his relations to 
the Father of all life, that he feels most happy. 
The present day may have its storms, but the 
future only smiles the more brightly to him. He 
is with God, and God is with him. Whether 
he be of high or humble station, rich or poor, 
praised or blamed, to him it is all the same ; for 
# the source of his happiness is not in the out- 
ward world, but within hims3lf. And he is with 



100 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

God, and God is with hin. And " blessed are the 
pure in heart, for they shall see God," here al- 
ready, in their foretaste of the higher bliss of 
heaven. 

Almost every stage of human life has its heav- 
enly moments, in which mortal man feels himself, 
as it were, involuntarily raised above himself. 
Not what we possess or what we earn, not what 
we eat and drink, not our apparel, not what men 
think of us, but a pure heart is the true source of 
happiness. 

Have you witnessed, or have you read of how 
persecuted innocence has been rescued? how 
some meritorious benevolent man was long mis- 
judged, and overwhelmed with accusations by his 
enemies, until at length the world learnt to see 
its own injustice, and every one sought to make 
some amends ? Do you recollect how that recog- 
nition of long oppressed innocence made your 
heart swell with emotion ; how a quiet joy took 
possession of you, as though it were your. own 
innocence that had been vindicated; how the 
happiness of that virtue which had at length re- 
ceived its reward, called tears of silent satisfac- 
tion into your eyes? On that occasion, you 
shared in spirit, with the person whose inno- 
cence was made manifest, a foretaste of heaven. 
It was from your own virtuous feelings that 
sprang the joy you experienced. It was the 
germs of true happiness within you that were* 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 101 

moved; it was the source of your eternal wel- 
fare that began to flow. Ah ! why did you choke 
up this spring with the rubbish of lower desires 
and petty cares? Why did you not put forth 
your full strength to rise in future above all low 
tendencies, and make a resolve to remain for- 
ever the elevated being you were during those 
brief moments of emotion ? 

Childhood has its Eden. Adolescence has its 
hours of paradise. But at a later age also we 
behold from time to time a ray, as if from a bet- 
ter world, flashing across our path, and lighting up 
the commonplace things around us. These are 
foretastes of heaven, which Providence sends to 
poor mortals, to stimulate them to strive after 
that which can alone render lasting such blissful 
moments. 

Hast thou known the feelings of a mother kin- 
dled by the smile of her child standing before her 
in the fresh bloom of its loveliness and grace ? 
when in silent but holy love she bends over this 
angel of her life, and seems with her kisses to 
draw its pure soul over into her own ? Hast thou 
known the delight of a father, when he beholds 
for the first time the new-born babe that owes its 
existence to him? when the infant smiles upon 
him for the first time ? when the joyous child 
lisps its first word ? when he sees it growing in 
health, industry, and virtue ? Ah ! the delights 
of those heavenly moments he would not ex- 



102 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

change for all the treasures of the world? ana 
the mother too feels this most deeply, and says, 
" Take all else from me, and I am nevertheless 
blessed ! " Queens may be inexpressibly misera- 
ble, and beggar-women unutterably happy! 

Such feelings are vibrations of the purest 
chords of the heart. Alas ! why do we so often 
leave them untouched? What is it that draws 
us all so irresistibly towards the sweet world of 
childhood ? What is the hidden power which, at 
the sight of an infant, moves even the barbarian, 
and which wins at once the stranger's heart ? It 
is the guileless trust, the sweet innocence, the 
winning grace of childhood, that charms us. It 
is the spotless purity of the angelic nature ; it is 
the vague anticipation of a brilliant future for the 
child, and of how deservedly — should these 
young beings preserve their purity and their 
virtues in a later age — they will become objects 
of the world's devotion. We honor in the child 
the undesecrated sanctuary of the heart, which as 
yet has no presentiment of evil. It is not the 
outward form, it is not flesh and blood, that ex- 
cites our love and admiration ; but the purity, the 
something Divine that speaks to us from the 
frank and open eye, the ingenuous countenance 
of the child. It is our own inborn sense of vir- 
tue, which, unconscious to ourselves, animates us 
at such moments. In the intercourse with the 
innocent little ones, we ourselves become more 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 103 

innocent, more noble and more wise ; we are 
ashamed to appear before them in all onr imper- 
fections ; and he who has not the courage to 
conquer his faults at least tries to conceal them. 
Verily, we may frequently learn more, improve 
more in wisdom and goodness, in the society of 
children, than in intercourse with the wisest of 
our acquaintance. " Suffer little children to come 
unto me," said Jesus ; " for of such is the king- 
dom of Heaven." 

The experience of every age thus proves and 
makes manifest, that the highest happiness of 
which man is capable does not depend upon 
whether he has much or little, but upon whether 
he has a pure heart. In the moments of his 
highest bliss his sense of virtue is always most 
strongly excited. In such moments he is good ; 
he rises above selfishness, malice, false pretences, 
and impure desires. In such moments he will- 
ingly shares with others what he possesses, he 
would fain make the whole world happy; he 
forgives his mortal enemy, and embraces all 
mankind in his love. 

It is the power of virtue that is strong within 
him, and that bears witness to the truth of Jesus' 
promise : Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God! 

Be pure of heart, and all the sources of heav- 
enly bliss within you will- be opened up, and you 
will enjoy constantly that foretaste of heaven 



104 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

which hitherto has only been vouchsafed to you 
in your highest moments. For they were your 
highest moments, simply because while they 
lasted you had risen to be better men. Why 
did you not remain ever what you were then? 
Why did you become untrue to yourselves ? 

You were untrue to yourselves in giving your- 
selves up again to the outward world, and ex- 
pecting from it pleasures which it does not afford. 
You deliberately became unfaithful to yourselves, 
because you cared not to be masters of yourselves ; 
but preferred surrendering the mastery to things 
which could in no way contribute to your peace of 
mind. You abandon yourselves to excessive care 
connected with your outward circumstances, for- 
getting that it is your inward condition that is the 
chief object of life, and that when this is not what 
it ought to be, all outward honors, all comforts 
and luxuries, all pomp and grandeur, will be pow- 
erless to make you happy. Like madmen, you 
sacrifice life for death, peace of mind for constant 
anxiety, cheerfulness for sadness, the conscious- 
ness of innocence for pangs of conscience, the 
pride of independence for the shame of depend- 
ence, the sense of security for never-ceasing fears. 
Perhaps you have often sent up the prayer: 
" Give me, O God, a pure heart ; and let thy 
Holy Spirit inspire me." But no sooner was the 
prayer uttered than you again gave way to anger 
against your brother, than you again hypocriti- 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 105 

cally deceived some unsuspecting person, than 
you again allowed a sufferer to leave you with- 
out being comforted, than you again began to 
amass money by unrighteous means, and allowed 
jealousy to fill your heart with hatred and malice. 
And what have you hitherto obtained in return 
for your many anxieties ? Perhaps physical in- 
firmities, which prevent you from enjoying what 
other advantages may be yours ; perhaps a few 
more possessions than previously, but perhaps, 
also, fewer joys than when you had less worldly 
goods ; perhaps a post of honor which exposes 
you to malicious attacks of envy, and heaps upon 
you responsibilities and cares. Is that a foretaste 
of heaven ? Can these gains bear comparison 
with the happiness you enjoyed in those higher 
moments, when you possessed none of these, but 
when you were pure in heart, and your mind was 
free and fearless ? 

He who is thoroughly happy within himself 
covets not other joys, asks for nothing more 
than to remain forever as he is. If outward cir- 
cumstances make man happy, why then is he, 
even after he has attained the desired end, ever 
craving for something better, something differ- 
ent? Why, then, is he always pursuing hap- 
piness as the child pursues the glowing colors of 
the rainbow, without ever reaching them ? 

Pause, wonder, reflect upon the heavenly hours 
thou hast enjoyed in life, and ask thyself how 
5* 



106 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 

they came to thee. Not to rank, nor riches, nor 
fine clothes, nor meat, nor drink, didst thou owe 
them, but to thy pure heart. Thou wert a better 
man in those hours, and therefore all that sur- 
rounded thee was better. Abandon the mistaken 
road towards happiness, and strive again to pos- 
sess that which alone can lead thee back to thy 
paradise. 

Live with God in childlike purity. Never al- 
low thyself to be too much absorbed in care for 
outward circumstances. Do thy duty, keep thy 
conscience clear; for all else trust in Him who 
knows best what is good for us. Hoot out thy 
faults and evil tendencies ; when a child thou 
hadst them not, and therefore thou wert happier 
then than now. First of all cast from thee the 
desires that cause thee most uneasiness; cor- 
rect, by steadfast perseverance, those defects in 
thy disposition and thy conduct, which are the 
chief sources of disquietude to thee. Man has 
great, nay, incredible power over himself, if he 
will but exert it. Think not of gratifying thy- 
self ; but consider each day what good thou canst 
do to others. Demand what thou hast a right 
to ; but, on the other side, never in the smallest 
way do injustice to others. And in order that 
thou may est continue to improve, study earnest- 
ly the spirit and precepts of Jesus. In these 
thou wilt discover the highest wisdom, and from 
them learn the way back into thy lost paradise. 



A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 107 

There thou wilt find thy God again, and even in 
the severest trials of life, an inward peace, cheer- 
fulness, bliss, of which no mortal can ever deprive 
thee. " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God!" 

Merciful and eternal God, Love inexhaustible, 
Father of the universe, my Father ! if I have 
but thee, all that life may bring is but a shadowy 
phantasm. If I have but thee, I shall pass with- 
out fear through light and through darkness, and 
shall find my way, and shall not falter, though 
want and death may threaten. If I have but 
thee, I am sufficiently rich, though all fail me that 
others call riches ; I am sufficiently exalted, 
though all the world look down upon me ; I am 
strong enough, though thousands conspire against 
me ; I am safe, though disasters may befall me, 
and all my earthly possessions be lost. If I have 
but thee, death itself cannot rob me of my joy, 
should it even tear from my bleeding heart all the 
beloved souls to whom I am attached. Ah ! death 
is thy angel messenger, he brings them to thee, 
and in the bosom of thy love I shall find them 
again. If I have but thee, I possess all things ! 
Amen. 



THE WORLD A MIRROR OF 
ETERNITY. 



The Lord is King ! he reigns forever ; 
The Lord is God ! he ceaseth never ; 

He was, he e'er shall be, he is : 
Who shall dare change what he commands 1 
The universe rests in his hands, — 

Fails he to hold, it perishes ; — 
Yet still unconscious of decay, 
The globe revolves from day to day ; 
In the eternal seas of air 
Floats yet this earthly ball, so seeming fair. 

How long, ye nations, will ye try 
His patience, " and his wrath defy " ? 

Triflers on earth, his love forgot, 
How long ere yet his anger burn, — 
Omnipotent, although ye spurn 

His power, and comprehend him not, — 
A Father and a Judge alike, 
Though merciful, he yet can strike ; 
The earth rests only on his will ! 
And ye, too, scorners ! — yet delays he still. 

(1 Cor. xiii. 12, 13.) 

OW gloriously does not the God, who 
beams upon us from the heavenly- 
re velations of Jesus, harmonize with 
the wonderful God who majestically 
reveals himself to me and to all nations, at all 
periods of time, in the varying beauty and 




THE WORLD A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 109 

grandeur of nature ! Mysterious and grand he 
appears in his action on the world of spirits. 
Mysterious and grand in the order of the myriads 
of flaming worlds, which move in their eternally 
prescribed orbits, without ever diverging from 
their paths, or coming into collision. Mercifully 
he reigns in the realm of immortal spirits, where 
his call to happiness penetrates all beings, and Ins 
justice rules ; mercifully in the sublunary world, 
where his love is extendec even to the lowliest 
creature. 

The longer I consider and weigh the revelation? 
of the Eternal Son, the longc r I dwell upon the 
spectacle of the infinite creation, the more con- 
scious I become of the proxiiiity of Gcd, the 
more vividly I feel : this is not mere mechanical 
activity. In all the forms of this sublunary world 
through all the play of the hidden spiritual forces . 
there is revealed a will full of almighty power, an 
almighty power full of wisdom, a wisdom full o^ 
holiness, full of love, — and this is God. But the 
nature of God I cannot fathom. A God who^e 
nature I could fathom would not be God, for ever, 
the nature of my own soul is a dark riddle to me 
Seek not to know wherein consists the essence oi 
the Highest Being ; for the essence of even tho 
meanest creature that he has made is an insoluble 
mystery to thee. Audacious mortal, the longe? 
thou gazest at the dazzling brightness of the sun 
the more it blinds thee ! 



HO THE WORLD 

Our knowledge here on earth is but partial, 
said St. Paul, the wise disciple of Jesus ; " now 
we see through a glass, darkly, but then we see 
face to face ; now I know in part, but then I 
shall know even as I also am known. And now 
abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the 
greatest of these is charity." (1 Cor. xiii. 12, 
13.) 

Yea, this world, which is for a short time as- 
signed to us as a habitation, is to me as a darkened 
mirror of eternity. I see here in part that which 
I shall one day behold with delight in its wonder- 
ful totality. What I hope here, will there be 
fulfilled ; and that which is here but an obscure 
foreshadowing, will there surround me as a bright 
reality. And the God of Life, whose glory I be- 
hold here only in reflection, will be revealed to 
me in full effulgence, when my immortal spirit 
shall be immersed in him and in his bliss. 

The world is to me a darkened mirror of 
eternity. That which I experience in detached 
fragments in this life, betrays to me what I shall 
one day experience in a more perfect life. For 
in the divine creation all is unbroken unity ; all 
tilings are connected ; there is no interruption of 
continuity. In the chain of the infinite universe 
there are no missing links. 

The here and the hereafter, life and eternity, 
are but one, form but one whole, without inter- 
ruption. Were my eyesight sufficiently strong, I 



A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. HI 

should discover in the minute seed, which a single 
blade of grass suffices to conceal, the gigantic tree 
which at the end of a hundred years will over- 
shadow a whole valley. . In everything there is 
progress, development. 

God has diffused throughout the wide universe 
a vital force, a secret power of animation. This 
all-animating power manifests itself on every side, 
yet how rarely do we notice it ! All things are 
imbued with it, and it is constantly renovating 
the form of whatever is undergoing dissolution. 
It acts with wonderful energy in the innermost 
germ of every seed, draws nourishment from all 
the elements, attracts towards itself the crumbling 
dust of ages, spreads fresh life through it, and 
produces a new plant, whose beauty charms us 
in spring, whose radiant colors dazzle our eyes, 
whose fragrance delights us, or whose fruits afford 
us delicious nourishment. 

This vital force resides in every part of animal 
nature, so that the part is hardly separated from 
the whole, before, in the midst of decay, new life 
begins to develop itself. 

Thus our earthly body likewise is imbued with 
this vital force. In every minute part of our 
bodies, also, the wonderful power diffused through- 
out the universe is at work. It is placed at the 
service of our spirit as long as the latter dwells 
in the body. For the benefit of the spirit it ani- 
mates the delicate nerve tissues, and causes the 



112 THE WORLD 

blood to flow through the labyrinthine passages 
of the arteries and veins ; for the benefit of the 
spirit it draws nourishment from the elements, 
brightens the eye, sucks in the fragrant breath of 
the flowers, and carries the tones of the outer 
world into the innermost recesses of the soul. 

When, however, that which is immortal within 
us outstrips the earthly coil ; when the thinking, 
freely willing, spontaneous power within us, which 
is subject to special laws of its own, and which we 
call our spirit, our real self, takes leave of the 
body, — then the vital power ceases to perform 
its functions, and the body perishes. 

But, in the same manner as these forces and 
life-impulses always find new materials which 
they work into new forms, so also the noblest of 
all forces, the immortal spirit, called to freedom, 
to bliss, and to eternal endurance, doth clothe 
itself in a new vesture. It neither sleeps nor 
dies when its first body passes away ; and it will 
not fail to find a new veil in which to shroud it- 
self, when called, perhaps, to act more gloriously, 
more perfectly, in the sphere of eternal existence. 
It must be so, — for naught perisJies. What is 
death ? Nothing more than transformation. The 
dead flower is transformed into dust, which in 
time becomes parts of other flowers. And in like 
manner as the blind life-force, acting according 
to the eternal laws of God, continues without 
ceasing, so also the free spirit of man, when re- 



A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 113 

lieved from its earthly coil. Thus this world is 
to us as a darkened mirror of eternity. 

What eye can measure the boundless universe 
of God? The strongest telescope of the astron- 
omer fails to discover its limits. Beyond all the 
stars or worlds which we discern through his in- 
strument, we behold the faint gleams of the pale 
light of still more distant and unknown realms 
of space, which may be the reflection of still 
remoter stars, located in parts of the infinite 
universe which will ever remain hidden to man. 

The wonderful rapidity with which light travels 
has been calculated; the relative distances have 
been measured between the sun and the planets 
that revolve round him, and which borrow their 
light from him ; but to express the relative dis- 
tances of the greater number of stellar systems, 
words and numbers fail us. Stars which we see 
ghmmering in the heavens because their light is 
still travelling towards us through immeasurable 
space, may have been long extinguished. New 
suns may have come into existence at inexpressi- 
ble distances from us, which we do not see, be- 
cause the light from them has not reached our 
eye. So immense is the universe! — Nay, not 
the universe, but merely the small part of it 
which we can discover from our earth ; and this 
small part, according to the suppositions of the 
most distinguished astronomers, is far from the 
glorious centre round which the worlds revolve. 



114 THE WORLD 

The earth, the sun, the myriad stars, float in the 
great ocean of space, and revolve round a greater 
sun which, however, remains hidden from our 
mortal ken. Each hour the globe we inhabit 
moves fifteen thousand miles, and each day three 
hundred and fifty-five thousand miles, onward 
in space. Hourly and daily the sun, with the 
eleven planets (worlds like our own), and eigh- 
teen moons (all of which cannot be seen with 
the naked eye) belonging to his system, in like 
manner move along with inconceivable rapidity, 
without our being able to perceive it. So im- 
measurable are the distances that separate these 
worlds belonging to one and the same system, 
that, even after a century's observation, we are 
hardly able to discern their motion round another 
— to us unknown — sun. 

And these numberless spheres, almost all of 
which are of infinitely greater magnitude than the 
globe we inhabit, are intimately connected with 
each other, in spite of the enormous distances 
that separate them. Similar to each other in 
form, they mutually dispense to each other the 
light which they irradiate, and which is perhaps 
the same as that which flashes from the thunder- 
cloud, and which beams so brightly in the Aurora 
Borealis. 

Ah ! what is the finest masterpiece from the 
hand of the first human artist, compared with 
the great, the wonderful, the boundless universe 



A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 115 

whereon God is enthroned ! And all these worlds 
form a unity, — are the intimately connected, 
closely related parts of a continuous whole ! 
From immeasurable distances the one acts upon 
the other. The moon moves our seas to ebb and 
flood, and influences the weather on our globe ; 
and in like manner our earth is influenced by the 
sun, which holds in dependence upon itself all 
the spheres floating in space at distances of hun- 
dreds of millions of miles from it. In virtue of 
the as yet undiscovered, and probably ever to us 
undiscoverable, matter that connects the countless 
worlds, they are constantly influencing each other. 
Thus all form but one whole ; all are connected 
by the Almighty Hand of Divine Majesty ! And 
thus this world, little as I know of it, is to me as 
a darkened mirror of eternity. In this boundless 
ocean of the universe, wherein nothing is ever 
annihilated, I also dwell. Like all that belongs 
to it, I can never cease to exist in it. I also am 
an inhabitant of the Divine edifice, and the All- 
Holy One, on whose breath hang myriads of suns, 
I may call Father ! My Father ! Here, as there, 
I am within the bounds of eternity ! There is no 
difference, for all is one ! The hours, the years 
which pass over my head on this earth, are parts 
of eternity, drops in its ocean, in no way separate 
from it ! 

When I learn from the observations of dis- 
tinguished astronomers and natural philosophers, 



116 THE WORLD 

that the size of the sun is more than one million 
and a half greater than that of our globe ; when 
I learn that the sun probably consists of earths and 
rocks similar to those of our sphere, that moun- 
tains and valleys really appear upon its surface, 
that it is not, as it seems, a glowing ball of fire, 
but that it is surrounded by an indescribable lumi- 
nous vapor in the same manner as our earth is 
surrounded by clouds ; or when I learn, that even 
tolerably strong telescopes show upon the sur- 
face of the moon entire ranges of strangely formed 
mountains and valleys, interspersed with dark 
spots, supposed to be oceans and plains ; or when 
I hear that in the sphere which we call our morn- 
ing and evening star, mountains have been discov- 
ered, which far surpass in altitude those of our 
earth, — I am seized with reverential awe, and my 
mind is lost in amazement, at the incomprehensible 
vastness, at the wonderful construction of the uni- 
verse, in which I perceive so many globes like our 
own, and probably — nay, certainly — inhabited 
like our own by living beings. Beings, the 
noblest of whom acknowledge and praise God, — 
ah ! perhaps more truly and worthily than I do. 

Then I see the world as in a darkened mirror ; 
then arise in me feelings never before experi- 
enced ; then I become conscious that I belong, 
not alone to this earth, to this fleeting, insignifi- 
cant life, but also to other kindred worlds ; that I 
have brothers, more perfect and more happy, 



A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 117 

dwelling in immeasurably distant regions of the 
grand universe. Language fails me. My thoughts 
are confounded. I seem to have a presentiment 
of the infinite. I stand in the midst of eternity. 
I am immersed in its awful depths ! 

What manifold forms of life and existence may 
there not be in those great worlds, that roll so 
majestically through space ! What an ascending 
scale, of ever greater perfection and happiness, 
of which I, poor mortal, cannot form even a dis- 
tant conception ! Even here on earth I behold 
and admire the manifold differences which prevail 
in great and small things. Even here I behold 
strange inequalities. What variety of mental 
capacity and of power of enjoyment, even among 
animals ! What an inferior creature is not the 
mussel clinging to the rock on the sea-shore, 
when compared to the May-fly rising on golden 
wings through the balmy air of spring ! What 
an exalted position does not the sagacious ele- 
phant, the intelligent courser, the dog, the faith- 
ful friend of man, maintain at the side of other 
individual species of the animal race ! And what 
is the instinct of animals compared to the reason 
of man ! And can we suppose that, after calling 
man into being, the creative power of the Creator 
was exhausted ? Can we suppose that man is the 
most perfect of created beings in the universe, 
because he is the highest and most glorious being 
on this globe ? What is this earth of ours ? 



118 THE WORLD 

Why, one of the smallest stars in the firmament. 
And even our sun, though one and a half million 
times larger than the earth, is but one of the 
smallest when compared to the suns which, placed 
at distances from us that no mortal can calculate, 
yet appear as stars of the first magnitude. If I 
may be allowed to draw conclusions from the 
comparative magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, 
O, then, man must be one of the meanest and 
most insignificant of divinely created beings ; 
then there exist in the infinite creation, in the 
abodes of eternity, beings of far higher nature 
than ours, before whom we should appear but as 
the dust at our feet ; and whose wisdom, holiness, 
perfection, happiness, exceeds ours as much as 
our wisdom, holiness, happiness, exceeds that of 
the lowly worm which we unconsciously trample 
under foot. 

Yea, there are creatures, of higher nature than 
myself, far more holy and perfect, who, like my- 
self, pray to the highest of all beings. Revela- 
tion mentions them as angels, as the exalted spirits 
of heaven, as cherubim and seraphim. There 
are worlds above ours. There are inhabitants 
of the boundless universe, in comparison with 
whom I am a mere nothing. And had no revela- 
tion taught me so, I should have learnt it from 
what I observe even on this earth. Yea, verily, 
the world is to me a mirror of eternity ; and 
though but a darkened mirror, the images I be- 



A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 119 

hold in it are mighty enough to stir up my inner- 
most soul. 

Only a darkened mirror, and yet how much do 
I not behold in it ! My knowledge here below is 
but partial, yet how elevating even in its limited 
form ! When my mind loses itself in the infini- 
tude of divine creations, I feel my insignificance, 
my nothingness, and yet, at the same time, a 
sweet pride and consolation come to me hi the 
thought, that I also am worthy of God, the Crea- 
tor of the universe ; that something- divine fives 
and thinks within me ! 

Alas for me, when from this sublime height, 
where I seem to have a presentiment of God, I 
look down upon my past life ! Alas for me, what 
have I been ? What have I done ? The sor- 
rows I have known, have they been nearer those 
of the angel, or of the brute ? Have I striven 
more to secure the sublime and intense gratifica- 
tion which the seraph enjoys in the consciousness 
of his perfection and holiness, or the sensual 
gratifications of my earthly body, which are com- 
mon to the lower animals as well ? 

Blushing, I cast down my eyes before the in- 
corruptible judge within me ; before the omnis- 
cience of the All-holy One. Fain would I hide 
myself, — hide the whole course of my life, that 
no eye might behold it ! For I have looked into 
the darkened mirror of eternity, but failed to be 
impressed by what I saw. I had an intuitive 



120 THE WORLD 

perception that a higher destiny awaited me, and 
that I must consecrate myself to it during my 
earthly life ; but I did not raise myself up into 
the sphere of the angels, but sank down into the 
slough of animal life. I labored for my body 
only ; took heed for naught but meat and drink ; 
stretched out my hands with childlike folly after 
pomp and earthly glory, evanescent as dust ; I neg- 
lected myself, lived not for my soul, my real self, 
but for my perishable body, which is mine only 
for a time. I looked into the darkened image of 
eternity; but, like the animal whose drooping 
head allows it only to gaze on the earth, I never 
lifted my face towards heaven. The applause of 
men, so contemptible and so little enduring, I 
prized more highly than the consciousness that I 
was making myself worthy of God and my eternal 
destiny. Ah ! how unutterably foolish I have 
been! how despicable I seem to myself! "Be 
perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect ! " 
So saidst thou, my holy, my Divine Teacher, 
Jesus Christ, who filled the spiritual world with 
thy light, which was not of this world. Woe is 
me ! I heard thy voice, O faithful Shepherd of 
men, but I did not follow its call ! 

Alas ! like my knowledge, so was also my will- 
ing but partial and imperfect. But is it ever to 
remain so ? Shall I become still more imperfect 
than I am? Shall I be precipitated from the 
place which I now hold in the scale of God- 



A MIRE OR OF ETERNITY. 121 

created beings ? Eternity ! Eternity ! In thee 
dwells Eternal Love ; but woe to me, sinner that 
I am, in thee dwells also the Eternal Judge 
whose justice deals with us according to our 
deserts ! 

Console me, ye lovely daughters of Heaven, 
Faith, Hope, and Charity ! Accompany me 
along the paths which I may still have to trav- 
erse. Strengthen me, O Faith in God ! and 
raise my mind above earthly cares and earthly 
wishes up to its true destination. Save me when 
my soul vacillates between time and eternity, 
when it is tempted to prefer the animal to the 
Divine. Save me when passion is nigh mastering 
me, and when sensuality threatens to carry the 
victory over principle and duty. And thou, O 
Hope, divine gift of God, promise held out by 
the lips of Jesus himself, abandon me not in the 
most anxious hours of life ! And when I sacri- 
fice everything for the sake of righteousness and 
the purity of my soul, should I be poor and for- 
saken because of my virtue, and become a laugh- 
ing-stock to men, — O then, Hope in Eternity 
and Mercy, do not thou forsake me ! 

And thou, loveliest of all virtues, parent and 
source of every spiritual perfection, Charity, love 
to God, and love to man, penetrate me so that 
in thee I may live and breathe and have my 
being. Only he who dwells in love, dwells in 
God ; only to him who dwells in love, who is 

6 



122 THE WORLD A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 



thoroughly imbued with love, is eternity opened 
here on earth; only he enjoys here below al- 
ready a foretaste of its bliss. For he who dwell- 
eth and ruleth in eternity is the all-animating 
Love, is God ! 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 



Alone by reason's glimmering light 

We dimly search out Nature's plan, 
But all to Thee was clear and bright 

Long ere creation's dawn began ; 
Together linked, some scattered beams 

Of truth our weary toil may claim, 
But to thine eyes, these fitful gleams 

Glow like a golden sea of flame. 

The countless hosts that throng each sphere, 

Each blooming flower, each hidden gem, 
Revealed before thy glance appear, 

And by their names thou callest them. 
Thou piercest to the germ within, 

Doubts, dangers, ne'er can 'scape thine eye ; 
Thou knowest all that is, has been, 

And can be in futurity. 

Such glorious knowledge is in thee, 

I tremble at the wondrous height : 
The wondrous depth o'erpowers me, 

As I stand praying in thy sight. 
I faint, I falter, God ! Thy ways 

Are measureless ; unless thou teach, 
Not even the archangels' gaze 

Can sound their depth, their height can reach. 

(Matt, xviii. 10.) 

:T a very early period already the hu- 
man race showed a tendency to be- 
lieve in the existence of higher beings, 
who, though created by God, were in- 
finitely superior to man. This belief was very 




124 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

natural. Because, the better acquainted men 
became with the various parts of creation, the 
more convinced they were that in nature there 
are no gaps ; that everything embraced in it 
forms one great continuous chain, in winch the 
lowest link, i. e. the most imperfect being, is 
connected with the highest, though only through 
innumerable other links, gradually rising in the 
scale of perfection ; that between the broken 
fragment of lifeless rock and man lies the long 
progressive series of plants and animals ; that 
the lifeless stone first touches in its crystalline 
form the lowest family of plants ; that certain 
plants, on the other hand, approach very near to 
animal life, such as it is seen in the water poly- 
pus and the coral ; that in the endless scale of 
living beings the less perfect is always followed 
by the more perfect, until at length the most 
perfect animal touches the least perfect, most 
animal-like race of human beings, who are only 
raised above the sagacity of the dog, the ele- 
phant, or the ape, in as far as a faint spark of 
reason glimmers within them. 

On observing this remarkable and regular gra- 
dation of beings, the question would naturally 
arise in man, Though I may be able to discern all 
that lies below me, does it follow that there is 
naught above me but what I know ? The most 
sagacious among animals are indeed aware of my 
existence, but can they form to themselves even 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 125 

a distant conception of what it is to be a man, or 
of what man can acquire and perform through 
means of his mental capacities ? And can I ven- 
ture to presume that the most perfect man touches 
immediately in the scale of beings the Deity who 
rules the universe ? 

Impossible ! the deeper I look into God's crea- 
tion, the more his glory and his boundless power 
are made manifest to me, the more vividly do I 
feel how infinitely inferior I am to the All-High, 
how far I am removed from him. And can I 
suppose that the immense interval that separates 
man from the Power that rules the universe is 
left unoccupied ; that the continuity of nature 
which I observe wherever my mind can pene- 
trate, has here been suddenly interrupted; that 
between God and man there is naught but an 
infinite desert ? This is inconceivable ! 

In like manner as in the planetary system 
smaller moons revolve round the earth ; in like 
manner as our planet and other planets revolve 
round the sun with other moons ; in like manner 
as the sun, accompanied by all the planets and 
their moons, and probably together with many 
other suns which we call fixed stars, moves in 
space around an infinitely greater sun which our 
eyes have never beheld ; in like manner as this 
again, with all the surrounding suns, planets, and 
moons, sweeps around a still more glorious centre, 
in periods of time for which human language has 



126 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

no numbers ; — so, also, there must be placed 
between human nature and the Deity myriads 
of higher beings, supermundane natures, nearer 
akin to God than poor mortal man ! In ordinary 
language we comprise all these beings under the 
name of angels, but we know not wherein consists 
their higher nature, nor do we know the number 
of grades which there may be between the least 
perfect angel who is nearest akin to the most 
perfect man, and the most glorious of created 
beings, who enjoy unutterable bliss, feeling them- 
selves in close proximity to God. 

The Holy Scriptures also speak of the existence 
of these lovely natures, without affording any 
idea of what they are and wherein their advan- 
tages consist. The Scriptures only mention their 
superior happiness, and say that they are the 
servants of the Most High, the doers of his bid- 
ding. Jesus Christ, also, who withdrew the cur- 
tain from as much of the sanctuary of the super- 
terrestrial world as he thought the eyes of mor- 
tals could bear to behold, — Jesus, also, speaks 
of the higher spirits which intervene between 
us and the Most High. But he only speaks of 
them as beings standing nearer the throne of 
the Eternal Father than we, and taking a loving 
interest in the welfare of human spirits, in like 
manner as kind-hearted mortals often constitute 
themselves friends and protectors of beings infe- 
rior to themselves. (Matt, xviii. 10.) 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 127 

Now, although it would be vain labor to en- 
deavor to form a conception of the nature and 
happiness of the higher spirits, it is nevertheless 
an interesting occupation for our thoughts to dwell 
upon what we know of the spiritual in this earthly 
existence, and to draw thence conclusions as to 
the spirits that rank above us. For in the world 
that we know, we find as great variety in the 
spiritual forces or invisible powers as in the 
material things. Among such spiritual forces or 
essences, the existence of which we know only 
through their effects, we must indeed count not 
only human spirits and animal souls, but also 
those powers which we usually denominate blind 
forces of nature, and which dwell in all things, 
not only in the animal and in the plant, but in 
stone, in water, in fire, and in all elementary 
substances. 

Is not heat a special power which expands and 
changes everything that is brought within its 
influence ? Is not light a special power, which, 
while stimulating our eyes, speeds on in all direc- 
tions in straight lines and with inconceivable 
rapidity ? Who has not beheld with wonder the 
mysterious power of the loadstone, which it com- 
municates to iron ? It works according to eternal 
laws peculiar to itself. The magnet attracts to- 
ward itself light iron materials from a certain dis- 
tance ; and the iron needle rubbed with loadstone 
ever points one of its extremities, and always 



128 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

the same one, towards the northern quarter of 
the globe. In consequence hereof it becomes the 
trusty and unerring guide of the seafarer during 
the storms that drive him out of his track on the 
ocean, and also of the miner, who labors deep 
down in the bowels of the earth, far from the 
light of day. 

Is not that strange something which manifests 
itself as lightning in the clouds of air, and as a 
spark emitted by the coat of various animals when 
stroked, — which betrays its existence in certain 
fishes of the sea by a violent shock, and which 
men of science call forth by friction from various 
substances in the form of a flash of lightning, or 
of a tremendous shock, — is not this a peculiar 
power ? 

All these and many other forces of nature are, 
in a manner, spiritual, — that is to say, they are 
present in the various bodies, though impercep- 
tible to our senses, until called forth by certain 
circumstances. Then they reveal themselves by 
some change produced in the bodies, and our 
senses take cognizance of their presence. In like 
manner the spiritual power of man remains hid- 
den, until revealed in word and action. 

These blind forces of nature are diffused through 
all matter. They work for, against, and with 
each other. They fill the air and every field of 
space. Through them only we obtain cognizance 
of the existence of the stars. They are in con- 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 129 

sequence spread through the boundless ocean of 
all creation ; lifeless, that is, imperceptible in 
themselves, and only active and vivid when 
brought into connection with certain bodies, just 
as the spirit of man only manifests its existence 
when united with a body. 

We call the eifects produced by these hidden 
forces natural phenomena. We, as well as every 
animal, every stone, every plant, are imbued with 
this spiritual something, without knowing what it 
is in itself, and how it works. It remains ever 
hidden beneath the play of its phenomena, in like 
manner as the spirit of man is unknown to itself, 
but only learns from its effects on the body, or its 
action through the body, that it is present. 

Finally, all that we know about these blind 
forces of nature is, that their influence contributes 
greatly to maintain the life of plants, and also the 
mere vegetable life of animals and men. It is 
they who give heat and color to our blood, and 
who suffuse the flowers with varied tints. It is 
they who in the dark caverns of the earth form 
various metals and minerals, and transform the 
latter into regular crystals. 

Nevertheless all these forces together are in- 
capable of producing a single blade of grass, with 
its fibres, its cells, its air-valves and spiral tubes. 
The blade of grass only comes into existence 
through means of a seed of its species. In this 
seed alone lies the possibility of the future plant 
6* i 



130 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

with all its forms, as, for instance, in the acorn" is 
the germ of the future majestic oak. 

But what is it that develops itself so beautifully 
and wonderfully in and with this germ? What 
is it that forms out of the volatile substances bor- 
rowed from earth, water, and air, marvellously 
regular tubes, valves, veins, fruits, down, leaves, 
roots, all organized with perfect wisdom ? What 
is it that produces in human and animal bodies, 
bone, blood, sinews, and nerves ; that regulates 
the internal parts, makes the blood flow according 
to laws of its own, and establishes the relative 
position of each part to the whole ? The human 
spirit dwells in the body without knowing what 
is passing within it, or how it is that everything 
moves within it according to rational laws. 

Here there is evidently something more than 
the mere blind natural forces, such as magnetism, 
light, and heat. Here is a higher power, which, 
though still not self-conscious, and still following 
blindly the laws of the Creator, yet already builds 
up instruments for definite purposes. I call this 
more exalted and powerful something, the vital 
force. 

This vital force — which develops the bodies 
of men, animals, and plants, which builds and sus- 
tains according to eternal laws laid down by the 
Creator — is totally different from the simple 
blind powers of nature. A flint-rock will never 
become a rose-bush, the seed-pods of a fruit-tree 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 131 

will never grow into gold. Each remains after 
its kind what it is, and the vital power develops 
itself according to the laws of creation. In like 
manner as it draws towards itself, and transmutes 
earthly materials for the construction of the bodies 
of plants, animals, and men ; so also it uses, as it 
were, for the completion of its purpose, all the 
ethereal or spiritual substances, i. e. the simple 
powers of nature alluded to above. It uses these, 
however, only as means, and thus proves that it is 
a higher power than they. 

The connection between the vital power and 
the natural forces is, however, so intimate, that 
the former, failing the aid of the latter, remains 
inactive. If heat and light be not admitted, the 
vital force in the vegetable germ cannot develop 
its activity, cannot make use of its instruments 
above and beneath the earth, to gather up new 
materials. 

Thus we recognize in the realm of creation 
known to us two kinds of spiritual essences : the 
blind powers of nature, and the true life-power in 
plants and animals. But the power which calls 
forth life, or rather, which in itself constitutes 
that which in plants and animals we call life, is 
as little self-conscious as is the force called heat. 
What does the growing hair on our heads, what 
does our body with all its limbs, know about it- 
self, except through the activity of the indwelling 
soul ? 



132 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

The plant has life, so has the animal ; but the 
latter has also a soul, that is to say, possesses an 
innate power of perception, and of judgment to 
a certain extent, and likewise a power of feeling 
hatred and affection, anger and joy, desire and 
repugnance. Animals have also the power of 
willing ; but plants, which do indeed, in rare in- 
stances, manifest a faint indication of sensation, do 
not show the most distant appearance of a will. 

Therefore the animal kingdom ranks as far 
above the world of plants, as the self-determining 
soul ranks above the mechanical vital power, or 
as life ranks above the blind powers of nature. 

Yet the animal soul is intimately connected 
with the vital principle in plants, and the activity 
of both often manifests itself in a similar manner. 
Just as the plant, following laws of which it is not 
conscious, draws from earth-, air, and water the 
nourishment it requires, so does the animal soul 
act in obedience to mysterious instincts, which it 
has not the power to resist. These instincts, how- 
ever, originate in the peculiar construction of the 
animal body. Thus horned cattle pass by those 
herbs which are not congenial to the nature of 
their bodies, and seek for those which will afford 
them healthy nourishment. Thus hunger makes 
the wolf ferocious, while the instinct that incites 
them to pair makes even the fiercest beasts gre- 
garious. All the sensations and desires of animals 
arise out of their bodily structure, their acts are 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 133 

influenced by this alone ; that which is agreeable 
or painful to their bodies, they like or dislike. 

How different from the mere animal soul does 
the exalted spirit of man appear ! This is not 
only conscious of its own existence, but clearly so. 
It not only takes cognizance of the things that 
surround it, (the animal soul does as much,) but 
it recognizes the more subtle relations between 
them, with their causes and consequences. It 
investigates the wonders of the lower creation, it 
masters the elements through its powers of inven- 
tion, and presses them into its service ; it trans- 
plants the produce of the vegetable kingdom into 
foreign soils ; it conquers the strength of the most 
powerful animals ; it calculates the movements of 
the heavenly spheres through space, and bears 
within itself a revelation of the Deity. 

Of all this the animal knows nothing. The 
soul of the most sagacious brute is incapable of 
rising to the height attained by the thoughts even 
of a young child. The animal soul has indeed a 
will, but it only wills what its body desires, and 
acts only in accordance with the bodily instincts. 
The spirit of man, on the .contrary, when its in- 
nate nobility is uncorrupted, acknowledges a 
higher law than that of bodily instincts ; it obeys, 
not the flesh in which it dwells, but itself alone, 
that is to say, the laws of its reason, whereby it 
distinguishes between good and evil, right and 
wrong. He who obeys only self-imposed laws is 



134 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

free. Therefore the human spirit is capable of 
freedom, and the animal soul, being the slave of 
sensual instincts, is in consequence essentially dif- 
ferent from it. The human spirit is akin to the 
divine, the animal soul is akin to the flesh. 

But the spirit of man is nevertheless, through 
the earthly bonds in which it is held, closely con- 
nected with the animal soul. Frequently the 
spirit is hardly master of itself; the animal soul 
connected with its body overwhelms its more 
exalted power, and thus arises a twofold law in 
the human breast. Man does not always do that 
which the spirit wills, but, on the contrary, often 
does that which it abhors. Therefore St. Paul, 
the inspired Apostle, said : — 

" But I see another law in my members, war- 
ring against the law of my mind, and bringing 
me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my 
members." (Rom. vii. 23,) 

Further, the human spirit, in spite of its con- 
sciousness of immortality, is also herein similar to 
the animal soul, that, although it takes cognizance 
of the things that surround it, it has no knowledge 
of its own nature. It is familiar with all things, 
but is a stranger to itself, and cannot say how or 
wherefore it exists. All earthly matters it sur- 
veys and organizes with wonderful acuteness, but 
the spiritual world it cannot fathom, though it is 
itself spirit. 

Does the chain of the higher forces and 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 135 

essences end with the spirit of man ? 0, if so, 
how short were it not ! Who can believe, when 
everything in the universe bears the stamp of 
infinitude, that the circle of the higher powers 
should consist only of the blind forces of nature, 
the vital power, the animal soul, and the spirit of 
man ? 

Nay, feeling the inconceivably great distance 
that separates my spirit from the Deity, I am will- 
ing to believe in the existence of manifold powers, 
and forces of a higher nature, — spirits more full 
of knowledge, goodness, and power than ours, or 
Angels as we term them in ordinary language. 

These higher powers are, perhaps, or even 
probably, as closely akin to the human spirit as 
this is to the animal soul, or as the latter is to the 
vital force in matter, or as this again is to the dead 
forces in nature ; at all events, there can be no 
doubt that these spirits, kindred to our own, are 
as far above us in power and capacity as man is 
above the animals, as animals are above plants, 
and plants above minerals. 

It seems almost as if I could picture to myself 
the clearer insight of those higher spiritual ex- 
istences, which rank next to ourselves in the scale 
of beings. They must be able to look deeper into 
the mysteries of God. While we mortals are 
endowed with the capacity of understanding and 
representing earthly matters, but are left in igno- 
rance as to the nature of spirit, and as to the more 



136 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 

occult powers of the universe, — the higher spirits 
are probably acquainted, and even familiar with, 
the laws of spirit. Before their eyes the myste- 
ries of the elementary bodies lie open, as the cup 
of a flower, with its coronal and its stamens, lies 
open before ours. We see only the outlines, forms, 
and relations of things as they appear outwardly ; 
the more lofty spirits, in virtue of their higher 
faculties, of which we cannot even form a con- 
ception, see and understand the internal nature 
and structure of things. 

But hold ! Whither do my thoughts venture 
in their bold flight ? They are endeavoring to 
break through the limits of their legitimate field 
of activity, and sacrilegiously to force themselves 
into the sanctuary of higher powers and spirits. 
Retreat ! Await the hour which thy Creator has 
appointed, when the all-animating Spirit, the Fa- 
ther of the universe, shall call thee, and perhaps 
place thee, also, in the rank of the more highly 
endowed beings. 

O Lord ! Can this be ? Shall I be worthy of 
it ? Have my spiritual powers been sufficiently 
developed ? Has my spirit ceased to obey earthly 
desires, to follow the animal instincts of the body ? 
has it ceased to give itself up to voluptuousness, 
covetousness, anger, love of revenge, hatred, and 
malice ? Is my spirit free, acting only in accord- 
ance with its own laws, i. e. God's laws ? Does 
it live for duty more than for worldly gain ? Is it 



THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 137 

actuated at all times by love, and not by en- 
mity? 

O Father ! O Lord God ! How my spirit 
yearns towards thee ! How it longs to escape 
from the imperfect and to reach the perfect ! 
Could I gain the victory, how willingly would I 
die! 

Die ! What is death to the spirit ? It is but 
parting from its earthly coil, the body, and 
from its earthly sister, the soul. Even the lat- 
ter escapes from its worn-out instrument, the 
body, and withdraws from it its vegetable life. 

Death never proceeds from the spirit to the 
body, for the spirit is life. Death arises from 
violent disturbance of the spirit's vehicle, the 
body ; or in consequence of the natural forces 
having completed their circulation in the organ- 
ism, according to divine rule. They then with- 
draw from the body, which thus loses light and 
heat, motion and stimulant ; and the natural 
forces being, as it were, the nourishing oil of the 
flame of life, this becomes extinct, — the human 
spirit is released, — is mature ! 

O God ! may it be my right, in the solemn 
hour of my dissolution, to proclaim in exultant 
tones of joy : I am a power ripened for a better 
state ! Admit me among you, O beings of higher 
nature, brothers standing on a more exalted level 
in the scale of creation ! I am your brother, for 
I am immortal ! 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 



Eock of God ! mine arm doth clasp thee : 

Immortality ! I grasp thee : 

Night and sorrow may surround me, 

Grief and care my peace invade ; 
Shall I faint because they wound me ? 

No, I seek thy cooling shade ; 
Longing after God's own rest 
Fills my soul, and makes me blest. 

As I reach that mountain height 
Swells my soul with calm delight, 
When the cool air, softly kissing, 

Wakes a fresher spring within, 
(Feeble image of God's blessing 

After long-repented sin,) 
Then I feel my course is gained, 
Soon my goal shall be attained. 

Then, O then, what tongue can tell 
The rapture of my bosom's swell, 
When no sorrow more can grieve me ! 

When God's mantle wraps me round, 
Never more alone to leave me, 

Every chain of sin unbound, 
All my soul is happiness, 
Freedom all my being's bliss. 

(1 Cor. xv. 31.) 

^^^^^^HE human body with which we are 
* invested on earth is but the transpar- 
ent veil of the soul, and we should 
£ ever hold in mind this relation be- 
tween soul and body, for this conception is not 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 139 

only true in itself, but is fruitful of important con- 
clusions bearing upon life. 

The Deity willed that the spirit of man should 
be capable of placing itself in communication with 
the non-spiritual existences, therefore it was en- 
veloped in a refined earthly material, every part 
of which is vivified by the spirit. Through means 
of a tissue of nerves, so delicate as scarcely to be 
perceptible to the naked eye, and which interpen- 
etrate the entire body, the soul holds command 
over the latter. Through the body the soul re- 
ceives impressions from without, which tend to its 
improvement, and it gradually learns to avail 
itself of the body as an instrument of action 
upon the outward world. If the bodily veil be 
rent in twain, if the instrument be destroyed, the 
spirit loses its power over its former habitation, 
which becomes as foreign to it as all other earthly 
matter. This estrangement between soul and 
body is called death. 

The body is a transparent covering of the soul. 
In all movements and changes, in repose as in 
action, we recognize the soul behind the appear- 
ances of the body. It is not the body that loves 
or is angered ; it is the soul that speaks in thun- 
dering accents through the instrumentality of the 
voice, and which smiles in the merry glance of 
the eye ; it is the shame felt by the soul that suf- 
fuses the cheek with blushes ; it is the soul's 
courage, terror, longing, or suffering that is 



140 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 

shown in the various expressions of its outward 
covering. For when the soul is separated from 
the delicate and mobile covering, which we call 
body, what becomes of the latter ? It sinks 
down and lies like a discarded garment. It 
grows rigid like a marble statue, and we can 
hardly believe that these dead ashes have ever 
been animated by a higher essence. 

It is not either the body that we love or hate in 
others, but the soul which is concealed behind its 
veil. It is the soul's loveliness that charms us ; 
its wisdom or its virtue which inspires us with 
respect ; its degeneracy that awakens our indig- 
nation. In the presence of the soul-abandoned 
corpse, all love and hatred cease, for our friend 
or our foe has disappeared, and his discarded cov- 
ering makes no more impression on us than any 
other dead matter. 

Natural as it is that no one should love the 
body of another, but, on the contrary, the soul 
that beams forth from it, as natural is it that each 
man should love the body in which his own soul 
is clothed. He seeks to protect and improve it, 
because the soul requires a worthy and efficient 
instrument ; he endeavors to adorn and beautify 
it, because the innate and constant yearning of 
the soul for perfection and distinction involun- 
tarily passes over to that which is most intimately 
connected with it. The soul even strives, in the 
feeling of its own unworthiness, to .cover its own 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 141 

failings by the beauty of its earthly veil ; it tries 
to draw the folds of this more closely around 
itself, in order that it may not be seen in its ugli- 
ness, — and of such persons we say that they pre- 
sent a false appearance. 

The necessity that each soul should be clad in 
a veil of flesh is one of the eternal ordinances 
of the Deity. Hence the deep and strong love 
of the soul for its body; hence that clinging to 
life which it is almost impossible to overcome. 

But what is death ? Nothing but the separa- 
tion of the soul from its earthly covering. What 
becomes of the covering when discarded? Does 
it vanish from God's creation? No, it moulders 
into dust and ashes, and mingles with the rest of 
the earth, out of whose nourishing elements it 
was originally built up. It does not go out of 
creation, but remains in it available for other pur- 
poses. But what becomes of the unveiled soul ? 
Does that vanish from God's creation ? O no ! 
How could it be possible that the nobler element 
should cease to exist, when the baser one is im- 
perishable ? Are we to believe chat it has been 
removed from the infinitude of created beings, 
because it has thrown off the veil through which 
alone it could reveal its presence to our senses ? 
Nay, it lives ! For even the dust in which it 
once enveloped itself is still in existence. It 
lives ! For God is Creator, not annihilator ! It 
lives ! For the All- wise cannot have repented 



142 DEATH IS MY GAIN 

of the exalted purpose for which he called it into 
being. 

And is the throwing off of this earthly veil so 
very painful ? It is true the natural love of life 
which the Creator has implanted in us makes us 
recoil from the thought of parting from our earth- 
ly covering ; but the strength of the human spirit 
can conquer the terrors of nature. How many 
noble men have b©£ met death in the cause of 
God, fatherland, faith, or friends ! They felt no 
fear of death. How many poor, weak, degen- 
erate beings have H©t, driven by despair, volun- 
tarily sacrificed a life that had become a burden 
to them ! 

The dying do not practise hypocrisy, and there- 
fore from their features we may judge what is 
passing in their minds. This being the case, it 
would almost appear that a pleasurable feeling 
must be experienced when the spirit is leaving 
its mortal coil ; for it has been frequently ob- 
served that the features of persons who are dying 
from painful diseases at the last moment assume 
an expression of cheerful repose, and that even 
around the lips of the corpse a placid smile, left 
by the spirit in parting, lingers, and seems to say, 
4 'Ah, what blessed relief!" 

But the imagination of those persons who 
attach too much importance to the body, and 
who therefore shudder at the idea that it is 
to be delivered up to destruction in the earth, 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 143 

makes death more terrible than it is in reality. 
Giving way to self-delusion, they even at times 
seem to fancy that the dead dust feels pain- 
fully its state in the earth, whereas in fact that 
which feels has hastened into a higher existence, 
and the corpse, the discarded veil of the spirit, is 
nothing more than insensible clay. 

Parting from the habitual and pleasant relations 
of life, the loss of well-known pleasures, and 
separation from beloved friends on earth, may 
indeed be painful. But in these cases it is not 
death itself, but that which we leave behind us, 
that causes us to mourn. It is our undue attach- 
ment to the earthly goods which have only been 
lent to us, and were never intended to be our 
lasting possessions, that occasions the grief which 
we experience. It is, therefore, an imperfection 
of the soul, a want of true wisdom, which entails 
suffering, as does every fault. Yea, even the 
love we bear our friends may be- reprehensible. 
Can we expect that the Deity will take our obsti- 
nate attachments into consideration, and alter his 
higher purposes to suit our views ? And in what 
does the parting from our beloved in death differ 
from every other parting, even from the " good- 
night " we wish our friends before we go to sleep ? 

Death may indeed be fearful to those who 
have entirely, or in great measure, neglected 
their immortal soul in this life, who — like the 
animals thoughtless of the future beyond the 



144 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 

grave — have only taken heed for the well-be- 
ing and enjoyment of their bodies ; who have 
oppressed their fellow-men, or slandered and de- 
ceived them, in order to gain for themselves more 
honors, more riches, and more enjoyment; to 
whom it seems preposterous to restrain their 
sensual desires, their animal instincts, in order 
to strengthen the power of their souls ; who call 
it folly to sacrifice earthly pleasure for the sake 
of virtue ; who consider it silly enthusiasm to 
work for the good of others, when no thanks 
are to be reaped, or when persecution and great 
sacrifices must be encountered. 

When the moment has come for such persons 
to throw off the earthly coil, the body they so 
much love, for which alone they think God has 
created them; when they are to part from the 
dust, for which alone they lived, to which they 
sacrificed all things, for which they committed so 
much injustice, — to them indeed death must be 
terrible. For poor, unworthy, miserable, imper- 
fect are their neglected souls, which have lost the 
sweet innocence of which they could boast in 
childhood, and which are now loaded with the 
burden of many sins. As they sowed in life, so 
they have reaped. For the eternal future of 
their spirits they never sowed. 

Even when in the fall enjoyment of health the 
unrighteous man cannot at times help blushing at 
his own depravity. In the midst of his evil-doing 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 145 

lie is obliged to confess to himself that he is act- 
ing in a manner which he cannot justify either 
to God or to man/ But his soul, though feeling 
what is right, is conquered by the power of his 
sensual being, to which long habit has given the 
mastery. But when the power of the senses 
declines with the strength of the body, when 
self-delusion is no longer possible, and the soul 
recognizes itself in all its hideousness, — then 
what must be his state ? With what feelings 
must he look to the future, who has lost all upon 
earth, and who has nothing to hope from eternity ? 

How different the condition of the wise and 
noble spirit, which knows its duties and fulfils 
them, and honors the high purpose for which 
the omnipotence of God called it into existence. 
How different the condition of the Christian, who 
has gained full ascendency over his lower nature, 
and ever places the claims of the soul above those 
of the body ; who understands the deep import of 
the words, to live in Christ. 

To him death is a gain. How could it be a 
loss to him ? To him who has made the divine 
thoughts of Christ his own, neither this- earth, nor 
his own house, nor village, nor city, is his true 
home. He is conscious that he was not born to 
be forever attached to the clod of earth which he 
cultivates to satisfy his earthly necessities, but to 
be a citizen of the eternal and infinite realm of 
God. In his eyes it is not this short life on earth 
7 j 



146 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 

that is the most important, but the life in the 
entire divine creation. The universe is his 
Father's house, and God, who dwells therein, is 
his Father, and every soul in it is bound to him 
by the ties of brotherhood. 

To him death is a gain. For what loss does 
the soul sustain in death ? It only throws off its 
heavy earthly veil ; it only changes its garment ; 
it receives from the Father of love a more beau- 
tiful raiment, instead of the cast-off vestment, 
which its altered circumstances have rendered 
useless. The soul remains what it was, God re- 
mains with it, the divine universe, with all the 
wonders of creation, remain. What does it lose ? 
The friends and relatives whom it loved on 
earth ? O no, they are still in the house of the 
Father, they are still bound to it by the same 
ties of brotherhood as before, though they cannot 
communicate with it any longer through earthly 
means. Nay, its loved ones are not lost to it. 
That cannot be lost which is in the hands of God. 

To him who knows how to live with Jesus, 
death is a gain. Or can it be said that this sublu- 
nary life is full of roses, and has no thorns ? It 
is true that with the change I lose many pleas- 
ures, but then, also, I shall be placed above many 
fears and many sorrows. Tears will never be 
shed by me again, for sweet is the fate of liber- 
ated souls ! Is this earthly life so full of unmixed 
happiness that we should wish it to endure for- 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 147 

ever ? Why do persons of very advanced age 
so frequently long for rest, for dissolution, for 
liberation, for removal into the better life ? and 
why, among thousands and thousands of people, 
is there not one who, if the choice were given, 
would begin life over again if its course were to 
be exactly the same ? Well, then, what great 
loss can this life be in reality, when there are so 
few to whom it has through its whole course 
brought sufficient happiness to induce them to 
wish it to remain forever as it was ? Is it not 
rather a gain for souls, who can with confidence 
resign themselves to it, to go over into another 
and a better world ? After all, what are the 
terrors of death ? Merely the terrors of a child- 
ishly timid imagination. The same God, O soul, 
that divests thee of one garment, will invest thee 
with another. 

He who knows how to live with Christ, will 
also know how to die joyfully with him. (1 Cor. 
xv. 31.) He dies each time he lifts his thoughts 
to God and forgets all earthly matters. He dies 
each time he communes in spirit with his de- 
parted loved ones, and feels that he is with them. 
For in such solemn moments this world is to him 
as if it were not. He is in the presence of God, 
in the presence of those he loved. He is what 
his soul will be when it has been uncoiled from its 
earthly veil ; only not in such great perfection as 
it will be when it shall be able to communicate 



148 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 

with God and the loved friends, in a new vest- 
ment, and as it were through means of more 
glorious instruments. 

Death is my gain ; for what is the purpose of 
my life on earth ? Like all mankind, I am des- 
tined to live eternally ; all nature teaches me this ; 
and therefore, even here below, I am to live for 
eternity ; and all my longing is for a better, 
higher existence. It is with this in view that I 
labor to improve myself; it is with this in view 
that I endeavor to adorn my spirit with every 
virtue. That which I become through Christ, 
that is, through following his divine example, that 
shall I be on yonder side the grave. It is there- 
fore death that leads me to the desired goal. 
Through it I reach what I have been ever striv- 
ing for ; through it I become what I was destined 
to be. 

Death is my gain. I exchange a less perfect 
garment for a more perfect one, exchange a lower 
seat, in the great paternal house of the universe, 
for a higher one ; I exchange an inferior degree 
of happiness for a state of bliss, of which my 
limited earthly faculties can as little form a con- 
ception, as the lowly worm in the dust can form 
a conception of the joys that may vibrate in the 
bosom of rational man. I proceed from a neces- 
sitous state into a world of overflowing plenty, 
where a drop becomes an ocean, and a spark of 
light becomes a sun. 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 149 

Deatli is my gain. Why should my soul be 
alarmed at the unknown road along which it has 
to travel ? Is the path that I have to wander 
here below better known to me ? Is not each 
succeeding hour of my life shrouded to me in 
impenetrable darkness? Do I know what will 
happen to me the next moment ? Whither I shall 
go ? And yet I live through each of those hours, 
and each becomes light to me as soon as I live 
in it. 

And equally light will be the hour that succeeds 
that of death. The unknown road will be made 
known to me as soon as I enter upon it. Why, 
then, should I recoil from it with a shudder ? Is 
it not the same as has been trodden by the dear 
ones who have gone before me ? Why should I 
not be rejoiced to follow in the path of those souls 
who will ever be precious to me ? Perhaps, in the 
very moment when the earthly veil falls from my 
spirit, I shall recognize those dear ones, whom I 
believed so far removed from me, and shall learn 
that they were always nearer to me than in my 
earthly state I had any conception of. 

Yea, verily, death is my gain ! It is closer 
union with the Father of spirits ; it is reunion 
with my glorified loved ones, for whom my soul 
is yearning ; reunion with those for whom to this 
day my wounded heart bleeds, my eyes weep. 
Reunion ! Renewed possession ! Renewed life ! 
O ye whom God's hand directed towards me, and 



150 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 

\ 

linked to me in his creation ! To find you again ! 

To love you again ! To be forever united with 
beloved and glorified souls ! What bliss in this 
thought ! God gave you to me : God, the most 
exalted love, inspired us with this love, which 
death cannot destroy, and which binds the mortal, 
as with invisible bonds, to the inhabitants of the 
higher world ! God does not destroy that which 
is holy, which is good, for it is his own work ! 
And love is the highest good which souls can ac- 
quire in their mutual intercourse. It is because 
he is himself Infinite Love, that God has peopled 
the universe with living souls. 

Death is my gain ! May this be my last sigh 
on my bed of death ; and may the thought of the 
love of my Creator, and of the dear ones that 
have preceded me into another life, be the last 
that occupies my soul, ere the veil falls from it. 
When it drops, my spirit shall at once be in those 
realms of glory which they entered before me. 

Therefore, O Christ, O divine Revealer of the 
Father, be thou my life ; for without thee, to die 
were to see my soul enter into destruction ! O God- 
enlightened Teacher, I will think thy thoughts, 
I will walk according to thy divine doctrines. I 
will contemplate from thy elevation all earthly 
matters. With thy love I will love my brethren, 
with thy zeal endeavor to spread joy and happi- 
ness around me. With thy courage I will over- 
come every obstacle to virtue, and will master 



DEATH IS MY GAIN. 



151 



myself so as to be able to act justly, nobly, di- 
vinely. With thy patience I will bear every ill 
of life, with thy wisdom and moderation enjoy its 
pleasures. With thy faith I will walk meekly 
and trustingly in the ways of Providence, and 
through thine eyes I will look up to eternity as 
to my Father's house, and to God as to my 
Father. 

For if Christ be my life, death is my gain. 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 



Part I. 

Star of day 
Whose laughing ray 
Is to cheer our homesteads given, 
Stars of night 
Shining bright, 
In the deep blue vault of heaven, - 
Though ye shine 
With peace divine, 
Making lovely earth and sea, 
Comes the feeling 
O'er me stealing 
Still how dark man's life may be. 
Sadly turning 
From the burning 
Of your golden glances bright, 
Thus I raise 
My trembling gaze 
To the everlasting light, 
Which o'er cradle and o'er grave, 
O'er the vale where palm-trees wave, 
O'er the bloody battle strife, 
O'er the joys and tears of life, — 
Whether fortune smile or frown, 
Still unchangeably looks down. 

(Eom. xi. 33, 34.) 



HE months pass calmly over our heads 
heedless of our hopes and our sorrows. 
The seasons vary in unbroken succes- 
^5=^P^£ sion. Old things become new, and 
new ones old; the works of the past perish, in 




ETERNAL DESTINY. 153 

their turn to be forgotten. It is ever the same. 
Everything has its invariable course assigned to 
it, its inevitable goal marked out for it. Every- 
thing is subject to one great iron rule, — the 
stars of heaven as well as the flowers of the field ; 
the rock as well as the worm that crawls at its 
foot; the entire nation as well as the single in- 
dividuals born into it. Nothing can be otherwise 
than it is ; nothing will ever be otherwise than it is 
appointed to be. Such is destiny, — the eternal ! 

What is destiny? — How? Everything has 
been pre-ordained from eternity ? No blossom 
fades, no infant weeps, no rock is precipitated 
from a mountain, no nation perishes, unless it 
has been so ordained from the beginning of time ? 
What, then, of my virtue and my sins ? Who is 
the criminal, who the judge ? Is my will also 
pre-ordained by destiny? Am I nothing more 
nor less in the great universe than the mote 
dancing in the sunbeam, not as it wills, but as 
it must? If everything that happens now has 
been pre-ordained since the beginning of time, 
of what avail are my sighs, my wishes, my 
striving for perfection ? Of what avail are my 
prayers? Were not these prayers also pre- 
ordained in the eternal councils of destiny? I 
am, then, but a machine, forming part of the 
great all ; and my supposed free-will is but a 
delusion ? 

What is eternal destiny? It is the immense, 

7 * 



154 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

infinite, immovable universe, in which all things 
follow each other necessarily as cause and effect 
Each effect becomes in its turn the cause of new 
effects. The tree brings forth seed, and the seed 
brings forth a tree. My youth having been what 
it was, I must be what I am. The pre-ordained 
occurrences of last year have produced those of 
this year ; and had it not been for those of long- 
forgotten centuries, we should not have witnessed 
the events of our times. Thus has one thing been 
linked within another from the beginning of time, 
and this concatenation extends into the infinite 
future. There, as in the past, one wheel of the 
huge world-engine drives the other, one part is 
indissolubly linked to another. Such is the rule 
of destiny, and therefore naught can be changed. 
Just as he who throws a stone into the still waters 
of the lake knows beforehand the sound that will 
ensue, and the eddies which will be formed, and 
which, spreading in ever wider circles, will ex- 
tend to the distant shores, while in the centre, 
whence the movement first issued, the waters 
have already become still again ; so might one, 
acquainted with the nature of all things in the 
world, know by anticipation, from the movement 
given to them in the first instance, thousands of 
years previously, what would be the events and 
occurrences during thousands of succeeding years. 
But that would be omniscience, and omniscience is 
not given to mortal man. Therefore he totters 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 155 

with uncertain step through the great labyrinth 
of the universe, knowing not what went before or 
what is to come after ; calling what befalls him, 
sometimes fortune, sometimes chance, sometimes 
unavoidable necessity. But the terms chance 
and accident are merely terms applied to those 
things the immediate cause of which man is un- 
able to detect. There can be no such thing as 
chance, as every effect has its cause. Every- 
thing is under the rule of necessity ; everything 
has been included in the councils of eternal 
destiny. 

Everything? How? Is then the infinite 
universe, with everything that stirs and moves 
within it, nothing but a machine, a well-con- 
structed clock-work in which nothing can take 
place but what the constructor has foreseen and 
pre-arranged? I myself am, then, but a very 
insignificant part of this world's machine ? I am 
struck with dismay. What am I ? Where am 
I ? How alone I stand with my joys and my 
sorrows in the midst of this cold, rigid organiza- 
tion of the world, amid these dead, will-less be- 
ings ! Why am I destined to feel and love, when 
there is nothing that deserves my love ? Why 
hate, when all evil, even vice, is pre-ordained, 
and follows a law of necessity ? Alas, my dearest 
wishes, my sweetest hopes, abandon me ! For 
what purpose is this juggle carried on? Why 
should I be made to feel repentance for faults 



156 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

which I was pre-ordained to commit? Why- 
should I hate sin, if eternal destiny has conse- 
crated me to that also? 

No, no ! It cannot be so ! Every feeling with- 
in me contradicts this conception of the universe 
and its laws. My spirit revolts against it. I am 
distinctly conscious of the freedom of my will; 
and though my body may be similar to a passive 
instrument, my spirit is not a machine, it is liv- 
ing ; it rules and determines after mature reflec- 
tion. Nay, the world is not a cold, dead mass, in 
which everything moves without consciousness, 
according to eternally pre-ordained laws. The 
action, the power, and the goodness of a living 
and loving God animate all things, and spread 
happiness around. O, what would the world be 
without love, without a Deity, without justice, 
freedom, and retribution ? A gigantic corpse, 
from which the soul has fled ; an unconscious 
play of things, in which there is no place for the 
highest and the best, for virtue, love, perfection, 
but only for their names. A miserable, unmean- 
ing, unsolvable, never-ending riddle ; and the 
most wretched of beings in it, man, with the 
claims of his reason and the sentiments of his 
heart ! 

No ; such a conception of destiny is an error of 
the understanding, arising from a one-sided view 
of things, which entangles it in self-contradiction, 
and sets it at variance with everything that we 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 157 

perceive in the outer world, as well as with our 
inward consciousness. 

What is eternal destiny ? It is the immense, 
fixed, endless organization of the world, in which 
all things follow each other necessarily as cause 
and effect. Each effect becomes in its turn a 
cause ; therefore that which takes place to-day is 
the necessary consequence of the past, and that 
which I am to-day is the necessary fruit of what 
I was in days gone by. I cannot deny this ; how, 
then, shall I avoid those errors of the under- 
standing in which I am again in danger of being 
involved ? 

I will take a survey of the various aspects of 
the universe. When I do this, I perceive in the 
dead stone, and through all created things up to 
the highest creature, an infinite number of forces. 
Everything that is, is in itself a force or agency, — 
that is to say, it acts upon the surrounding matter. 
Even the dead stone is a force or agency, other- 
wise it could not act upon the things around it, 
through its weight and its cohesion ; otherwise it 
could not act upon our senses, through its color, 
its form, or its smell. That which produces no 
effect upon me is to me non-existent, but that 
which acts upon 'me is a force. 

The forces present in God's universe are as 
manifold as they are countless. They form an 
immense, graduated scale, from the most insig- 
nificant entity to the highest. They unite with 



158 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

other forces, and through such union produce new 
phenomena. What a variety of forces are there 
not, for instance, in the body which we call a 
stone ! How much greater still is the number 
and variety in plants ; and beyond these again in 
animals ! But there is not only variety in these 
forces, but also gradations. The vital force of the 
plant is a higher agency than any that resides 
in the stone. The plant multiplies itself, has its 
youth and maturity, and propagates its species. 
Higher still is the force which we call animal 
soul; because this latter feels, chooses, judges. 
Higher still is the force of the human spirit in 
the beautiful distinctness of its self-consciousness. 
And forces higher even than this range above us, 
and are called in the Scriptures angels and arch- 
angels. 

But all these families and kingdoms of forces 
in God's creation are what they are by the will 
of God ; each has its special sphere of action, its 
special conditions, its special laws assigned to it, 
and according to these it must exist and act. 
Therefore the stone is, and ever remains, a stone, 
and retains its qualities as such ; therefore the 
roots of the vine and of the thistle seek only such 
nourishing substances as are in conformity with 
their nature ; therefore the birds of the air live 
and move otherwise than the fishes in the sea. 
Every force in nature has received from God its 
peculiar law, and thus the human spirit has also 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 15 9 

its own law, which is neither that of the animal, 
the plant, nor the stone. 

In conformity with these special laws of their 
nature is the action of all created things upon 
each other. They unite and separate, attract and 
repel each other, seek and avoid each other, and 
thus arise the teeming life and ceaseless movement 
in the universe. The mutual conflict between 
the various forces constitutes the life of the uni- 
verse. 

As none of the forces which in their totality 
constitute the universe can act otherwise than the 
sphere of action assigned to them and the laws 
laid down for them by God will admit of, their 
action is the necessary consequence of these laws. 
And when the forces came into being, the will 
of God, the great and eternal Constructor of the 
worlds, foresaw all the effects they were to pro- 
duce. This was the eternal pre- ordination of that 
which was to be. 

But when God from the beginning willed the 
existence of the world, he willed it in his infinite 
wisdom. Therefore the conflict of the forces 
created no confusion, but progressive develop- 
ment ; not internecine destruction, but a great 
and wonderful life, comprising all and in which 
each serves the other. Such was, such is, and 
and such will ever be, the great order of the 
universe, in which stars and grains of dust move 
in their appointed circles, in which the humblest 



160 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

grasses and mosses bloom and die away as dc 
entire nations. 

And when God in his infinite wisdom created 
the order of the universe, and created it for in- 
finitely exalted ends, he created it also in the 
fulness of his love. He, the All-Good One, willed 
that the whole should be infinitely harmonious, 
and that all the sentient forces in it should enjoy 
happiness. Therefore we see provision made even 
for the happiness of the humblest insect ; and for 
the spirit of man he provided far higher bliss. 
But the insect is bereft of its joy, and feels pain, 
as soon as it violates the laws of its nature ; and 
in like manner the spirit of man forfeits the higher 
joys provided for it, when it fails to fulfil the law 
of its being. And this law is, that it should be- 
come perfect, as its Father in heaven is perfect ; 
consequently, that it should maintain the more 
exalted position assigned to it, and rule the lower 
forces, and not allow itself to be ruled by them. 
The spirit is bound to hold in abeyance the animal 
forces that reside in its body, to subdue the impure 
desires, of the latter, and to look up to God and 
to the spiritual world to which it belongs. The 
spirit's law is conscience, yearning after perfection, 
abhorrence of all evil, and indestructible desire for 
freedom. If man allow his spirit to be conquered 
in its conflicts with the animal and plant-like parts 
of his nature, he becomes wretched and contempt- 
ible in his own eyes. For in the order of the 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 161 

universe, everything is a concatenation of neces- 
sary consequences. Sin and imperfection give 
birth to suffering. 

Man is consequently not pre-ordained to be 
the victim of sin and corruption, but to be made 
happy through his perfections. If he firmly wills 
it, he can attain this perfection in all the relations 
of life. He may know beforehand, that when he 
feels sorrow or suffering there is something in 
himself which is not as it ought to be. The sor- 
row and suffering are in themselves his guides 
to happiness. This is his destiny! 

Whatever fate may befall us, we are consequent' 
ly independent of it, in as far as we are what we 
ought to he. Our dear ones may die, but we are 
not made unhappy by this, unless we forget that 
they and we are members of the spiritual world ; 
that, as spirits, they cannot be lost to us ; and 
that we ought not to allow ourselves to be 
attached to the perishable clay in the grave, as 
though it were imperishable. The death of the 
body was necessary in accordance with the laws 
that rule that which is earthly ; our grief is the 
necessary consequence of our too great attach- 
ment to that which pertains to earth. This is 
destiny ! But all things pre-ordained by God are 
beneficent, they strengthen our powers ; by gentle- 
ness they lure, or by terrible earnestness they 
force, the spirit to rise from that which is earthly 
and perishable to the knowledge and love of the 



162 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

imperishable, from the animal to the spiritual 
which constitutes our true dignity. Wars and 
battles, famine and misery, disease, robbery, and 
arson, come within the rules of destiny. But 
what are they ? Nothing more than the destruc- 
tion of what is perishable. They point towards 
that which is imperishable, eternal ; that is, to that 
inward happiness of which nothing can deprive 
us. Thy despair at the misfortunes which be- 
fall thee, was it comprised in the doom of thy des- 
tiny ? Yes, because it is a necessary consequence 
of thine own imperfection. The peace of mind 
which the sage enjoys, in spite of every misfor- 
tune, is an equally necessary consequence of his 
greatness of mind, and of the conquering power 
of his soul. 

The more virtuous and the more self-possessed 
the human spirit be, the more invulnerable it is, 
the more independent of destiny. God is raised 
above destiny because he is the All-Holy One. 
The more holy our inward being, the nearer 
we stand to God ; and the nearer we are to God, 
the higher we are lifted above the power of des- 
tiny. 

Thus the apparent contradictions are dissolved 
into beautiful harmonies ; and from out of the 
darkness comes forth light. Everything must 
work for our good, everything must be on our side, 
because God is on our side. The pre-ordinations 
of the Lord are wise, just, and beneficent. Their 



E TERN A L DES TINY. 



163 



end is not to make us slaves without a will of our 
own, but to give freedom to our spirits ; they 
work with our spirits in order to raise them above 
fate. O what unbounded riches in the wisdom 
and knowledge of God! How impenetrable are 
his judgments, and how inscrutable his ways ! 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 



Part II. 

From forth the darkness, deep and vast, 
By destiny our lot is cast ; 
Round all of earth her net she draws, 
And the world owns her guiding laws. 

But One there is, enthroned on high, 
Beneath whose feet sits destiny, 
Who binds together flesh and soul, 
And holds e'en fate in his control. 

For destiny is but God's slave ; 
He rules, his grace alone can save ; 
And mortals strive their game to make, 
For destiny, that priceless stake. 

And Jesus leads the spirit choir 
Whose souls from dust to God aspire. 
He Fate under subjection lays, 
Who unto God his soul can raise. 



(Isaiah lv. 8, 9.) 

NDIVIDUAL sages who lived and 
taught in remote antiquity, and sub- 
sequently entire nations, observed the 
rule of destiny in the course of hu- 
man affairs, and all hearts trembled before the 
dread power thus recognized. Philosophic minds 




ETERNAL DESTINY. 165 

among the heathens endeavored to solve the fear- 
ful riddle. They called the eternal, inexorable 
power to which everything was subject, which 
nothing could resist, blind fate. On it, they be- 
lieved, depended the lot of the meanest worm, 
as that of the most exalted man and of every 
nation. Nay, even all the deities with which the 
imagination of mortals then peopled earth and 
heaven were, in their opinion, subject to this 
universal law ; even the mightiest of the gods 
were not beyond its power. 

This belief in an all-ruling fate could not fail 
to arise among men who had not yet learnt to 
distinguish clearly between the world of matter 
and the world of spirit; but who were, on the 
contrary, so steeped in the material, that physical 
and moral well-being were to them identical. 
Beauty, power, riches, honors, were their highest 
goods. For these they lived ; and as they recog- 
nized no deeper import in life, the value of their 
existence rose and sank in their eyes in proportion 
to the amount of these earthly advantages which 
fell to their lot. The fate which robbed them of 
these could therefore rob them of all. But very 
few individuals had any intuitive perception of a 
higher good, of which even the most relentless 
fate could not deprive man without his own con- 
sent. Still fewer had the courage to raise them- 
selves above the power of fate through their own 
magnanimity of. soul. Those, however, who did 



166 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

so awakened at that period already the surprise 
and the reverence of their fellow-men by the 
heroism of their virtues ; nay, the world was 
even inclined to place them among the gods. 

The views of the Christians regarding this 
point are, however, very different from those 
of the heathens. Jesus led the human race back 
from the errors of the imagination and the under- 
standing into the paths of eternal truth. He 
revealed to us the only God as the most perfect 
of all beings, and as the Father of spirits, whom 
we are to worship in spirit, and not with offerings 
and such like. He revealed to us that the whole 
purpose of man's existence is not hedged in be- 
tween the cradle and the grave, and he allowed us 
to cast a glance into the mysteries of eternity. 
He taught us to hold light the life on this earth, 
because this is not the true sphere of our hap- 
piness. " In my Father's house," said Jesus, 
" there are many mansions." He taught us to 
distinguish between the value of earthly and of 
heavenly or spiritual things. "If ye have but 
wherewithal to clothe and to feed your bodies," 
said Jesus, " then be content. Lay not up treas- 
ures for yourselves on earth, but in heaven, and 
seek before all things the kingdom of God. Be 
perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect. For 
what availeth it a man if he gain the whole 
world, and he suffer damage in his soul ? " He 
taught that the soul ought to have the mastery 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 167 

over the body, and pointed ont the majesty of the 
spirit, and its superiority over every good this 
earth can afford. He showed, in his own life, 
how a man may rise above his fate, and render it 
powerless to affect him. He proved that the pre- 
ordained course of things may indeed interfere 
with our earthly concerns, but that it is powerless 
to destroy our inward peace, or the bliss of our 
spirits. 

Destiny or fate is consequently the divine law 
to which the material world only is subject. Bod- 
ily health and disease, life and death, the im- 
provement or the decline in our earthly position, 
the increase or decrease of the consideration in 
which we are held, of our influence, or our 
power, the rise or fall of nations, victory or de- 
feat on the field of battle, — all these, as things 
earthly, are subject to the law of destiny that 
rules all terrestrial matters. 

But spirits are subject to a very different law. 
They do not participate in the fate of that which 
pertains to earth. Their essence is freedom, 
their law virtue, their end likeness to God. The 
fate of the material world only regards them in 
as far as they are connected with matter. The 
less self-dependent they are, the more they incline 
to earthly things, the more they mix themselves 
up with the sublunary world, the more also they 
come under the law of destiny. He who places 
himself under a strange master, must submit to 



168 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

his yoke. He who resigns Iris freedom and his 
self-control, must be content to be treated as a 
slave. Therefore only he who places his happi- 
ness in outward things is really unhappy ; there- 
fore only the follower of Christ, the true sage, 
is really happy. To them that love God, all 
things (even the apparently most terrible) work 
for good. 

Spirits are subject to a very different law from 
that which governs material things ; therefore 
they suffer when they submit to a foreign yoke. 
In so doing they fall from their original dignity, 
they become unfaithful to their calling ; they de- 
sire to be, not exalted spirits, but superior animals. 
Yet God still loves them. The law of destiny 
becomes their chastening rod, and drives them 
back to self-knowledge, urges them to lay hold 
on higher things. And through fearful disasters 
and misfortunes the voice of God speaks to them, 
saying : " My thoughts are not your thoughts, 
neither are your ways my ways ; for as the 
heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways 
higher than your ways, and my thoughts than 
your thoughts." (Isaiah lv. 8, 9.) 

We cannot, indeed, entirely dissever the bonds 
which bind us to earth. Our place in the scale 
of spirits is still so low, that we must of necessity 
live in immediate and close contact with the infe- 
rior beings of the universe. But it depends upon 
ourselves to rise to a higher rank in the scale. 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 169 

To help us to do so Jesus the Messiah was sent. 
He came to deliver us from the powers of dark- 
ness and the bonds of death, which hold in sub- 
jection all that is earthly. He came to help us 
reconquer our lost liberty. But his redeeming 
life will be of no avail to those who cannot deny 
themselves, who cannot renounce the world, who 
cannot, like him, live a righteous, innocent, and 
unselfish life. His atoning death will prove of no 
avail to those who do not possess spiritual freedom 
and magnanimity of soul sufficient to wish to 
please God rather than man, and to die as the 
Saviour died. 

We cannot entirely emancipate ourselves from 
earthly things ; but we must not allow ourselves 
to be mastered by our love for these, but maintain 
our freedom in regard to them. We are obliged 
and bound to seek food for our bodies, but we 
are equally bound not to attach great importance 
to the gratification of our palates. We ought to 
dress with propriety ; but we must not allow our- 
selves to be so far conquered by a taste for out- 
ward show as to feel unhappy because we may no 
longer be able to appear in costly raiment. Pur- 
ple, velvet, and silk are, after all, not far differ- 
ent from the winding-sheet in which a corpse is 
clothed. We ought to labor to improve our 
pecuniary means, in order that we ourselves, as 
well as those who belong to us, may be raised 
above dependence upon the caprice of others, and 



170 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

that we may be able to contribute the more to the 
furtherance of the public welfare ; but we must 
not seek our greatest happiness in the accumula- 
tion of riches, or pride ourselves upon possessing 
more than others ; and then, should our circum- 
stances ever be reduced, this will cause us no 
shame and no great unhappiness. We ought not 
to despise the good opinion of others, nor be in- 
different to the influence we may exercise over 
them ; but we ought never to seek consideration 
or influence except through our merits and our 
virtues. For only in as far as the public consid- 
eration in which a man is held, is at the same time 
accompanied by, and has sprung from, public con- 
fidence, can it become a means of doing much 
good. But to thirst for consideration for its own 
sake only, to wish for power merely for the sake 
of possessing it, is to mistake the path leading to 
the goal for the goal itself, to mistake the means 
for the end, the instrument for the work it is 
meant to fashion. To stand high or low in this 
world's estimation, to enjoy rank and titles, or to 
have neither, is a matter of indifference to the 
immortal spirit, which knows that its true dignity 
resides within itself, and depends upon nothing 
outward ; and that, not the distinction which is 
bestowed by man, but the worth which the spirit 
owes to its own efforts, is indestructible. 

We cannot and must not disdain the pleasures 
and joys of life. They tend to refresh and enliven 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 171 

our whole being. But we must not cling to them 
with such passion, that when they pass away we 
feel as though we must pass away with them. 
We must love the objects of our affection, friends, 
parents, or children, with such tenderness as is 
natural to refined souls. But we ought not to 
forget that it is not their body that we love, — 
this will grow old and die, — but their spirit. We 
should ever bear in mind that their last hour on 
earth will and must come, but that all-ruling des- 
tiny cannot separate the spirit from the spirit, but 
only the body from the body. He who founds 
his highest happiness on the life-breath of a mor- 
tal, founds it on a frail thing indeed. He who 
does not regard the universe as his Heavenly Fa- 
ther's house, who does not recognize the spirit as 
the object of his love, who does not see in immor- 
tality the guaranty of his happiness, let him be- 
ware of tender affection, if he would not love 
that which would destroy him, if he would not 
be the victim of a fearful destiny. For what he 
loves must one day become dust and ashes. 

Raise yourselves above dust and ashes, ye 
chosen of God, ye followers of Christ ! Enjoy 
the goods of this world, as sweet, fleeting, tran- 
sient gifts, but lay up your treasures in heaven ! 
Pluck the blooming rose, but forget not that to- 
morrow it will be withered and faded. Live with 
what is earthly, not in it, but in yourselves. Ac- 
cept of every pleasure, but do not give yourselves 



172 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

up to it. Despise neither honors, nor dignities, 
nor riches, but do not sacrifice to them even the 
least of your higher duties ; let the gifts of for- 
tune be to you mere accidental advantages, for 
they cannot forever belong to you, and you belong 
still less to them. He who acknowledges no mas- 
ter but himself, his virtues, and his God, is master 
of all things ; he is further removed than other 
men from the sorrows of this earth, and over him 
destiny holds no sway. He may be poor, despised, 
persecuted ; he may lose his fortune, his comforts, 
his friends, the consideration in which he was held 
by others ; but his inward contentment, his holy 
piide in his own worth, he need never lose. He 
is raised above fate. It is not to the world he 
owes his inward peace and happiness, and the 
world cannot rob him of them. 

But to whom am I saying this ? "Who recog- 
nizes the eternal truth of Jesus 's words, "But 
seek ye first the kingdom of God and his right- 
eousness, and all these things shall be added unto 
you " ? (Matt. vi. 33.) O, they have eyes and 
see not, they have ears and hear not ! The great 
majority of men are absorbed in their earthly 
needs, and have no conception of higher wants. 
They believe in God, but bear no love to that 
which is Divine ; they pray to God, but are the 
slaves of their own passions. They honor virtue, 
yet act viciously. They believe in immortality, 
yet give themselves entirely up to this world. 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 173 

They desire happiness, yet fly from it. They 
cannot gainsay the truth, yet cling to the delu- 
sions of their senses. They claim to be men, and 
superior beings, yet are content to remain nothing 
more than animals. They complain of the cruelty 
of fate, yet will not raise themselves above it by 
magnanimity of soul. They remain miserable, un- 
happy, in conflict with everything that surrounds 
them, and with themselves. They seek a means 
of escape, and find it not. The voice of God is 
loud in their hearts, yet they refuse to follow 
it. They deserve their misery, for it is their 
own choice. Therefore saith the Lord : " Your 
thoughts are not my thoughts, neither are your 
ways my ways. For as the heavens (and all spir- 
itual things) are higher than the earth, (and all 
that is earthly,) so are my ways higher than your 
ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." 

But to whom do I recall this ? To the nations ? 
Ah ! behold their misery ! This misery is the 
proof of their errors. How petty are the aims 
of all, or at least the greater number of the indi- 
viduals who constitute the nations ? What fruits 
can we expect from such seed ? What concord 
is there among them when the common danger is 
past ? Where is their friendship when their self- 
interest is touched ? Where is their patriotism 
when their individual advantage is at stake ? 
Where is their moderation in prosperity? Why 
do they cherish in their own hearts that arrogance 
winch they dislike so much in others ? Why do 



174 ETERNAL DESTINY. 

they complain of that pride in others which they 
do not overcome in themselves ? Why do they 
boast of the reverence they feel for the rights of 
nations, and yet attack these whenever it can be 
done without danger to themselves ? Why do 
they praise honesty, and yet seek to overreach 
others ? Ah ! they have witnessed the effects 
of disunion, arrogance, and injustice ; they have 
heard the warnings of universal history, but their 
hearts are hardened. They had Moses and the 
prophets, but they preferred to believe in their 
own falsities and follies. In the hour of need 
they raised aloft the banner of virtue to save 
themselves from destruction, but when the dan- 
ger was over they deserted the sacred banner to 
prepare for themselves new misery. Thus let it 
be. Your fate is sealed. You cannot escape your 
destiny, for you have brought it upon yourselves. 
" My thoughts are not your thoughts," saith the 
Lord, " neither are my ways your ways ; but as 
the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my 
ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts 
than yours." 

Among thousands, however, there may per- 
haps be one who recognizes God's thoughts and 
ways in the decrees of destiny ; there may be one 
to whom his inward being, the consciousness of 
innocence, and the peace of God, are of more 
value than all outward goods ; one who has given 
himself entirely to Christ, who acknowledges him, 
not in the performances of church ceremonies, but 



ETERNAL DESTINY. 175 

in mmd and heart, in willing and acting, in self- 
abnegation and self-control. Ah ! thon only one 
among thousands, thou art the happiest, because 
thee no destiny can assail. Thou art raised 
above every earthly fate. 

O, I also, I also will strive for this peace, will 
seek to attain this height ! I will be thy brother, 
Jesus ! Saviour ! Thou didst enjoy divine happi- 
ness, though the world reviled thee. Thy perse- 
cutors were seated upon thrones, and yet were 
slaves of then brutal passions ; but thou wert a 
prince of life, a conqueror of death, and the power 
of destiny could not terrify thee. The cross on 
Golgotha was thy trophy of victory ; the crown 
of thorns was thy crown of triumph. 

I will strive in spirit to reach thy elevation, 
and the power of God will be mighty in me in 
spite of my weakness. I will accomplish it, I 
will be sole master of myself, I will control my 
feelings and my tendencies, so that I allow my- 
self nothing but what is right, true, and useful ; 
so that I accept whatever the earth offers me that 
is beautiful and good, but without forfeiting in 
return my peace or the mastery over myself; so 
that my inward freedom be not restrained by any 
outward fetters ; so that I may be rich even in 
poverty, and exalted even though of lowly es- 
tate ; so that I may belong to thee, O Jesus, and 
to all pure and noble spirits. I must, I will ac- 
complish this ! O Spirit of God, strengthen my 
determination ! Amen ! I shall succeed. Amen. 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 



Let the song of victory sound, 
Christ for us has won the day, 

(Us, who to the grave were bound,) 
And chased the night of death away. 

Nobly hath the work been wrought, 

And for us the victory bought. 

With what a noontide brightness, Lord, 
Are His promises displayed ; 

How shines the truth of Heaven's word, 
Man's soul is immortal made, 

And before God's awful throne 

Virtue shall receive the crown. 

Sing not solemn dirges sadly 

By the graves where good men lie ; 

For their spirits, brother, gladly 
"Wander in infinity : 

Christ for all hath victory gained, 

And the tyrant, death, enchained. 

(2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.) 



ESUS CHRIST, our Lord, revealed to 
us in his own life on earth, as in a mir- 
ror, what we are, and what we ought to 
be. I recognize in him what I ought to 
be. From the hour of his birth in the humble 
manger, until that of his glorification after his 
descent into the tomb, his life was a solemn in- 




THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 177 

dication of what the Deity wills that man should 
be. In obscurity and lowliness he was born, 
that we might learn that neither family descent 
nor rank, neither riches nor pomp, invest man 
with a nobility that has any worth in the sight of 
God. He died poor ; a stranger lent the site for 
the interment of his body, that we might learn 
that our destination on earth is not to lay up vain 
treasures and to attach ourselves to the things 
that are seen, but to strive after those things which 
are not seen. Nowhere do the Holy Scriptures 
tell us, that in the course of his life Jesus advanced 
in worldly honors and riches ; but they do tell us 
that with years he increased in wisdom, and in 
knowledge of things divine. His beneficent life- 
task was to render men happy ; he came to re- 
deem mortals from falsehood and sin, and his 
spirit embraced in its love and mercy not only his 
contemporaries, but all those who should be born 
thousands of years after him. And he as little 
neglected the least means of doing good as the 
greatest. He healed the blind and the lame, and 
succored the helpless. All this took place that 
we might learn, that our task in life is not only to 
attend to our business vocations, to take care that 
our families increase in rank and riches, but to 
grow perfect in every virtue, to improve in wis- 
dom and in knowledge of God. For the good of 
mankind he met death, died wholly resigned to 
the will of God ; his spirit rose above the most 

8* L 



178 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

galling indignities, — above the severest mental 
pangs which ingratitude and treachery qould in- 
flict, — above the most cruel physical sufferings, 
when, exhausted by hunger, thirst, and ill-tieat- 
ment, he sank down bleeding on the way to Gol- 
gotha ; or when, nailed to the cross and jeered 
at by the multitude, he wrestled with death. But 
glorious was his triumph beyond the tomb ; and 
all this was in order that we might learn that 
not earthly well-being, not the enjoyment of the 
pleasures of this world, are the purposes of our 
life ; that neither want nor suffering ought to 
deaden in us our love of the Divine, but that, 
whatever fate befall us, the eye of the spirit ought 
to be directed towards eternity, where the palm 
of victory and of glory awaits us when the death- 
struggle is over. " For," say the Holy Scrip- 
tures, " our light affliction, which is but for a 
moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory. While we look not 
at the things which are seen, but at the things 
which are not seen ; for the things which are 
seen are temporal, but the things which are not 
seen are eternal." (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.) 

The day of victory of Him who has arisen from 
the dead reminds me of my future day of vic- 
tory, of my higher destination. 

But what is the destination of man ? As yet 
the idea is not quite clear to me. To many, I 
know, the purpose of life is a riddle, and more 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 179 

especially to those who look at the things which 
are seen. Are we here that we may enjoy hap- 
piness and well-being in connection with virtuous 
sentiments ? ask many. But how few persons 
enjoy unmixed happiness in a world where each 
hour brings an alternation of pleasure and pain ; 
where one moment we are called to share the 
sorrows of others, the next we are made to groan 
under physical suffering, or to yield up our dear- 
est wishes ? Or how can the happiness that flows 
from virtuous sentiments and acts be ours, when 
each day we rise, like Peter, with the noblest 
resolves, and yet end it with laments over our 
own weakness ? 

What is the purpose for which God called me 
into being ? Am I born merely to be the play- 
thing of an hour, to fill for unknown ends a brief 
existence, extending only from the cradle to the 
grave, or to serve the purposes of other beings to 
me unknown, who may be amused at my mirth 
or my tears ? Shall I sink down, and fade away 
forever, in old age, like the flowers of the garden, 
like the tree of the forest, like the lion in the 
desert, or like an ephemeral insect ? How can I 
reconcile such an idea as this with the conception 
of the infinite perfection of God? Why do I 
bear within me a lively consciousness of being in 
myself an end, not a means, — a consciousness 
which makes me feel that I exist for my own 
sake, and that I am, as it were, a central point of 



180 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

the universe which I behold around me ? "Why- 
do I see before me high aims to attain which 
would be impossible in this short existence, while 
other creatures have no more qualities than are 
necessary to sustain their earthly life, to provide 
themselves with food, and to avoid pain and 
danger ? 

Thus even our unaided reason points to con- 
tradictions which would necessarily arise, were 
we to suppose that our destination is comprised 
within the narrow limits of this life. 

But we know that man is spirit, and that the 
body is ashes, and only a vestment and instrument 
used by the spirit in this temporal existence, for 
the enjoyment of what is earthly. The body, or 
the animal envelope of our spirits, changes as 
years accumulate on our heads ; the spirit in- 
creases in knowledge, but nevertheless feels that 
it is still the same that it has been since the first 
awakening of consciousness. The body clings 
tenaciously to the earth from which it came ; the 
spirit never finds rest on earth, is never content 
with what it has attained, but when one wish is 
satisfied longs for the fulfilment of another, and 
again another, and so on without end. 

The spirit, therefore, is the most essential and 
the enduring part of man ; that which is unseen 
and eternal constitutes its life, not that which is 
seen, or which is perishable ; its origin is divine, 
it springs not from earth. And as the body will 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN 181 

one day return to its mother earth, so will the 
spirit return to the Divine bosom whence it ema- 
nated. 

If my spirit be the essential part of me, then, 
when I speak of the destination of man, the ques- 
tion can only be as to the purpose for which his 
spirit was created ; about the body there can be 
no question. This is only a subordinate power 
existing for the sake of the spirit. And, again, 
if there be a question of the spirit, it can only be 
as to its vocation during an infinitely prolonged 
existence. But how can I know what ends the 
Deity has in view for it after the hour of death 
in this world ? So far my eye does not reach. 
And yet the voices of nature, of reason, and of 
revelation proclaim with wonderful harmony what 
I shall be hereafter, and what I am to hope for. 

What is the lichen on the rock, the oak-tree 
on the mountain-side, the eagle in the air, intend- 
ed to be ? Nothing more or less than what they 
are, and what alone they can be, in accordance 
with the peculiar powers or forces implanted 
in them by the Creator : moss, oak, and eagle ! 
Thus also the spirit, which conceives of God, 
shall become that which, in accordance with the 
special powers implanted in it, it may, through 
the infinite periods of its existence, raise itself to 
be, viz. a being who through endless self-improve- 
ment is ever drawing nearer to God ; an essence 
higher than a thousand other subordinate forces 



182 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

that live and act in this world, and living and 
acting independently of these, but understanding- 
them and governing them, and growing without 
cessation in knowledge which will reveal to it the 
greatness of God and the grandeur of creation, 
in ever clearer and more enrapturing light. This 
is the eternal, the all-important glory that awaits 
us ; i. e. those among us who look, not at the 
things which are seen, but at the things which 
are not seen. This is the 4 object of the vague 
yearnings within our souls ; this is the meaning 
of that commandment of the glorified Saviour, 
wherein he disclosed the true destination of man, 
" Be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is per- 
fect." (Matt. v. 48.) 

To become like unto God is then my destina- 
tion, — to let my spirit grow in the divine likeness 
through infinite progression. The truth of this, 
first revealed to me through Jesus, is confirmed 
by my reason and by my experience of life on 
earth. For even the things of this world all im- 
pel me in that direction. All things encourage 
the spirit to extend its mastery over that which is 
merely sensual, and to hold this in contempt, — 
to elevate itself above the chances of outward 
circumstances and of fate. To do this is to grow 
in likeness to God. For in wisdom and knowl- 
edge, as in supreme happiness-diffusing influence 
on the universe, and in perfect independence of 
fate, God is infinitely great and exalted. Life on 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 183 

earth is given to train the spirit for its sublime 
destination ; but this training is not completed 
here, but will continue Avithout ceasing in far 
distant spheres of life, while our happiness will 
increase with our perfection. 

All things stimulate the spirit to extend its 
knowledge and wisdom. Even for this man is 
born naked and defenceless, that he may exert 
and develop his mind in efforts for his own suste- 
nance and protection. The animal enters life ready 
clothed, and provided with natural weapons of de- 
fence, and with unconscious instincts to seek the 
herbage, fruit, or carrion which it requires for its 
nourishment, and which it finds at once. Thou- 
sands of years have passed since the creation and 
peopling of this globe. The animals have made 
no progress in knowledge or wisdom. Not so 
man, who is ever impelled forwards by the wants 
and sufferings and cravings of his nature. At 
first he lived in caverns, next in huts built of the 
boughs of trees, then in well-contrived, comfort- 
able, self-invented dwellings. At first his hands 
and nails, next rude wooden and stone imple- 
ments, were his only aids ; then he descended 
into the bowels of the earth, and brought forth 
thence the numerous metals which doubled his 
strength, and helped him to subjugate the animals. 
The tiger was then no longer too strong for him, 
nor the fox too cunning, nor the eagle too far 
above him in the air. At first he clung timidly 



184 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

to tlie spot of earth where he was born ; but soon 
he roamed into other regions, learnt to communi- 
cate his thoughts through means of artificial tones, 
and acquired a knowledge of foreign languages ; 
and next he crossed the wide ocean from one 
quarter of the globe to another, and by means of 
written symbols communed with friends dwelling 
in far distant lands which his own foot had never 
trodden. At first he trembled at the thunder of 
the clouds, and gazed with vague wonder only at 
the stars of heaven ; subsequently the idea of a 
Deity took birth in him. He sought the Deity ; 
but in the commencement worshipped him in the 
thunder, the fire, and the stars. Then he began 
to conceive that neither of these were God, but 
only created things, and he prayed to the Unseen, 
— until, when mankind had become capable of 
receiving it, the full light was given through 
Jesus Christ. 

And thus the human spirit, driven by the ne- 
cessities of life, progressed without ceasing from 
invention to invention, from knowledge to knowl- 
edge. That which in the present day is known 
to every youth, would, thousands of years ago, 
have excited the wonder of the most experienced 
sage. What will mankind be after another six 
thousand years of progressive knowledge ? 

Already we know the immeasurable magnitude 
of the universe, the size and orbits of the heav- 
enly bodies in closest proximity to us, the plains, 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN 185 

and mountains, and the light that clothes the 
moon, the sun, and the distant planets ; the won- 
derful powers of the atmosphere, of light and of 
innumerable other works of nature. But God 
the All-wise knows all, while the wisest of mor- 
tals as yet knows only a drop in the ocean of the 
universe. To grow like unto God is the desti- 
nation of the spirit. 

Towards this the whole organization of the 
universe is impelling us. Everything incites us 
to extend our dominion over the world of sense, 
and tends to develop the consciousness of our 
superior dignity as spirits, as feeble images of 
God. The will of the spirit, and the desires and 
instincts of the flesh, or of our sensual nature, are 
in constant conflict. This is the twofold law with- 
in us, of which Paul the Apostle speaks. In the 
flesh originate all tendencies to sin, to pride, to 
envy, to revenge, to luxury; in the spirit origi- 
nate our longings after holiness, our yearnings 
for the divine, the unseen, and stable. In vain 
the feeble spirit seeks contentment in the tempo- 
ral ; it is ever repelled by the latter, and thrown 
back upon itself. In vain the spirit, forgetting its 
dignity and destination, seeks its happiness in the 
gifts of this life. Beauty and strength perish ; 
fame is overshadowed ; luxury creates disease ; 
riches and earthly goods are ever changing hands, 
and cannot follow us beyond the grave ; parents, 
friends, husbands, wives, children, all die, none 



186 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

remain, nothing on earth can secure to us lasting 
happiness. All things impel us to turn away from 
the seen to the unseen ! 

Sin is spiritual slavery, virtue spiritual freedom. 
Sin is dominion of the flesh, virtue is dominion 
of the spirit. In vain the spirit would forget that 
it is free, and ought to govern the desires aris- 
ing out of its earthly nature ; in vain it would be 
at ease, and avoid exertions and conflicts, give 
itself up to sensual well-being, and seek no higher 
wisdom than to elude that which is disagreeable, 
and to secure the enjoyment of that which is 
exciting, pleasurable, and honorable in ordinary 
social life ; in vain it resists the warnings of con- 
science ; in spite of all, the entire order of the 
universe, which is but a great school of spirits, 
incites us again and again to reassert our domin- 
ion over sensual influences, and to hold light all 
that is of this earth. For every sin is followed 
by its own peculiar punishment. Deceit is fol- 
lowed by fear of detection, dissoluteness by pain- 
ful diseases, intemperance by enervation. For 
the spirit there is neither rest nor peace, until it 
has conquered all the passions that war against it, 
until it has learnt to be just, truthful, indepen- 
dent of base prejudices and sensual desires, and 
has found the highest bliss in the consciousness 
of virtue. This is being like unto God. 

For this purpose, the spirit is further impelled 
by everything that surrounds it to look at all mat- 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 187 

ters from a proper point of view, and to judge 
and apply them accordingly ; every error of judg- 
ment entails suffering. Towards tins likeness to 
God everything impels it until it is not only 
raised above the enchantment of the senses, but 
above the power of fate. The various fortunes 
that befall men are but God's missionaries sent 
to mstruct and improve ; they are connected 
with earthly matters only. When avalanches 
fall, when nations are subjugated or liberated, 
when flames devour houses and other property, 
and war lays countries waste, when illness comes 
upon us without any fault of our own, and friends 
breathe their last in our arms, — all these events 
affect us in our earthly connections only. The 
more independent the spirit of the Christian is 
of all earthly things, the more exalted he is above 
the events connected with them. He may be rich 
or poor, be living in superfluity or in want, may 
meet with friendship or with persecution ; but in 
none of these cases is there anything that can im- 
pair his love of Christ, of virtue, and of the Deity. 
The world can give him nothing which he is not 
willing patiently to resign again. Life itself has 
not more value in his eyes than duty. He fears 
not death ; and he who fears not death, nor pov- 
erty, nor the judgments of men, what power can 
fate have over him ? He is a spirit like God ; he 
bears his happiness, his highest good, within him- 
self, and no fate can destroy it. Like unto a 



188 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

divinity he stands above all the storms of life, 
fearing them not in the consciousness of his inno- 
cence and his righteousness. This is to be like 
unto God ; this is the destination of man ! 

And to this destination, which I am to reach 
through endless progress, I ought, I can, and I 
will draw nearer here on earth already. Jesus 
walked the earth in human form, and endowed 
with human qualities ; and yet he extended his 
knowledge of divine things, and he conquered 
his earthly desires, and rose above his fate. He 
had friends ; he loved the tender-hearted disciple 
that rested his head on his bosom ; nevertheless, 
his soul did not cling exclusively and passionately 
to individuals. " All men and women," said he, 
" are my brothers and sisters." He was not in- 
different to the good things of this world ; he was 
present at the marriage-feast in Cana, and did not 
refuse the costly ointment offered to him as a gift 
by a pious, reverent, and grateful heart ; never- 
theless, he renounced every sensual enjoyment 
without a sigh ; often he had no place to lay his 
head, and he made no effort to avoid death when 
duty bade him give his life for the salvation of 
sinners. But a day of victory awaits all godlike 
spirits, and he was glorified beyond the grave. 

If this be the destination of man, then woe is 
me, for how often have I not forgotten it ! TToe 
is the world, for what confusion of mind does there 
not reign therein ! Can it be that nature, and 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 189 

reason, and revelation have ceased to have a 
meaning, and that Jesus, the Saviour, has not 
risen from the dead ? For I see men busy about 
all other matters, but not thinking of those things 
which are not seen. They sacrifice pleasure, 
health, and life for the attainment of other 
things, but not to improve in spirit, to grow in 
likeness to God. They pride themselves upon 
their cleverness ; the one claims to excel the 
other herein ; each is anxious to turn time and 
circumstances cunningly to his own advantage ; 
but who is there that aspires towards that mag- 
nanimity of spirit that enables a man to rise above 
fate, above time and circumstances, above hope 
and fear? 

Alas ! and when I look at the mass of the peo- 
ple, what spiritual darkness do I behold ! A deep 
yearning for divine things there is in all hearts ; 
to all religion is something sacred, the eyes of all 
are turned to heaven, all seek to penetrate the 
mysterious depths of eternity ; but what a mel- 
ancholy idea they form of their destination, what 
an unworthy conception of the Majesty of God. 
They believe that they can purchase their rise in 
the scale of beings with senseless prayers and 
church ceremonies, while living as slaves of their 
animal nature. Here on earth they would lead 
a life of luxury, and for their fate in the next 
world they would rely on the intercession of 
saints, or on the merits of Jesus Christ. Thus, 



190 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

they think, they will obtain their glorification. 
The j would fain enjoy their heaven here below, 
believing that their good deeds and their prayers 
are quite worthy of a heavenly reward. They 
do good merely for the sake of the recompense, 
and avoid evil merely from fear of punishment. 
Their conception of heaven is that of an ever- 
enduring life of sensual enjoyment. And all 
these errors are disseminated by the help of un- 
principled persons, who allow themselves to be 
called priests of the Almighty God, and teachers 
of the doctrines of Jesus ; and magistrates see 
the deplorable ignorance of the people, and look 
on with indifference, neglecting their duty to in- 
troduce better educational institutions, so that the 
knowledge of Divine things might be spread even 
among the humblest classes. Is it possible that 
mankind has so completely forgotten its high 
destination, that not even a vague and dream-like 
remembrance of it survives ? Is not Christ risen, 
who preached, " Be perfect, as your Father in 
heaven is perfect ! " But if we do not despair 
of our destination, and have not lost our belief in 
the truth of God, why do we live as though there 
were no eternity ? Why do we form to ourselves 
an image of the Highest Being, far less noble and 
exalted than we would form of a human being 
who was described to us as just, and incorrupti- 
ble, and wise ? 

Jesus, they honor thee with their lips, but their 



THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 191 

hearts are estranged from thee. They make 
themselves preachers of thy holy word, not be- 
cause they desire to follow thee, but in order to 
secure to themselves the comforts of life ! They 
make themselves dependent upon outward cir- 
cumstances, upon narrow-minded prejudices, and 
petty desires ; they, who as eternal spirits ought 
to be exalted, as thou wert once, above the unal- 
terable laws that rule all earthly matters ! Not 
all do this it is true ! — Yet the number of thy 
true confessors and followers is, alas ! but very 
small. 

Jesus, my divine example in life, in suffering, 
and in death, I celebrate to-day in my heart the 
festival of thy victory and glorification, — may it 
be also the festival of the victory of my spirit over 
all sensual influences. I recognize the purpose for 
which I was created, and the thought of it fills 
me with holy rapture. As thou earnest forth 
from the grave, so will I come forth from my 
errors, and enter into a higher spiritual life ; so 
will I come forth from the slavery of my passions, 
and enjoy liberty and mastery over myself. And 
not content with doing this, I will endeavor to 
awaken others also to a recognition of their ex- 
alted destination ; I will strive to make my fellow- 
men feel their sublime vocation ; I will praise thy 
greatness, O Father in heaven, in my home, in 
the circle of those with whom thou hast linked 
me together here on earth; and by my senti- 



192 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 

ments, words, and deeds I will endeavor to prove 
and to make acceptable to all the truth, that amid 
the things which we see is not our lasting home, 
but amid the things which we do not see, in the 
abodes of Eternity. That neither riches, nor 
rank, nor fame, nor other fleeting goods of this 
life, but self-improvement, growth in likeness to 
God, ought to be the great object of every spirit, 
in order that " we may be perfect, as our Father 
in heaven is perfect." Amen. 



IMMORTALITY. 



How shall I know myself for joy, the change how understand, 
When God himself shall take me hence to his own better land % 
"What different names the things will bear which once I deemed 

Divine, 
When in that bright-and blessed home God's glories round me shine. 

As there is but one Lord of all, one God who reigns in heaven, 
So unto all created things one life alone is given ; 
And through creation's wide domain for death we find no place ; 
The law of change prevails for all, — extinction none can trace : 
I know my soul shall ever dwell, when freed from earthly stains. 
Where in eternal majesty Christ, my Redeemer, reigns. 

(Mark xvi. 1-14.) 




3|j)HE festival of the Resurrection of 
* Jesus, after his death on the cross, 
may be considered as also celebrated 
by us in joyful commemoration of our 
own immortality. His resurrection from the 
grave reminds us of the great transformation 
which our souls also shall one day undergo. The 
soul is not dust like the body, and never can be- 
come dust. As all the powers of the universe 
created by the Almighty are eternally active, so 
also will my spirit remain eternally active. Jesus, 
our example in life, is also our example in death, 



194 IMMORTALITY. 

and his resurrection is an indication of what we 
have to expect after death. 

There are three great ideas bearing upon the 
most sacred interests of man, and compared with 
which all others sink into utter insignificance ; 
three ideas which the mind of man alone, of all 
God's known creatures, can comprehend, and 
which form the most sacred treasures of all 
souls, — without which, indeed, man would cease 
to be man. These are : the conception of an 
all-ruling Deity, — the belief in the possibility 
of drawing nearer to God by growing in per- 
fection, — the hope in eternity. 

He who treasures in his mind these three sa- 
cred ideas, follows in the footsteps of Jesus ; he 
is in the way of salvation ; he will ever enjoy that 
peace of soul which is a foretaste of the heavenly 
bliss that awaits us hereafter. 

If the thought of the imperishable nature of the 
soul and the infinite goodness of God were at all 
times vividly present to men's minds, we should 
witness less levity, less vanity, and less heartless- 
ness, and we should experience less fear and awe 
of death. 

Therefore will I this day endeavor to fill my 
mind with the glorious thought : There is a God, 
and I am his work, and am forever indestructible ! 
I will meditate upon my higher destination, upon 
the more exalted existence which is in store for 
me, and gladden myself with the hope which 



IMMORTALITY. 195 

Jesus has given me, and which God himself has 
implanted, not only in the heart of the Christian, 
but in that of every human being that treads the 
earth. 

I am born for eternity. Christ has given me 
the assurance thereof. A day will come when I 
shall no longer belong to this, but to another 
world, in which I shall enjoy a higher or a lower 
degree of happiness, according as my soul has 
prepared itself in this earthly life for the future 
existence. (John v. 28 ; 2 Cor. v. 10.) 

I am called to eternal life. This body, in 
which I am now clothed, has been borrowed 
from the earth, and will return to earth. But 
that which is incorruptible cannot perish, cries 
a voice to me from the Holy Scriptures. My 
spirit will enter into new relations, and clad, as 
it were, in nobler raiment, it will be susceptible 
of nobler enjoyments. It is in vain for us to 
search into, and ponder upon, what may be the 
real nature of these wonderful changes. It is 
folly to wish to have a knowledge of the state 
of the soul after death. Can human weakness 
penetrate the secrets of the Infinite Power? 
Can human blindness scan the nameless depths of 
Infinite Wisdom ? How could that be made clear 
to us for which human lanmiao;e has no words, 
and for which the things of this earth offer no 
analogy ? Even St. Paul deprecated such vain 
endeavors of inquisitive minds, and to explain that 



196 IMMOR TALITY. 

whicli takes place after death lie has but obscure 
images. (1 Cor. xv. 35, 44.) 

Let it be enough for every Christian that he 
has acquired the tranquillizing conviction that a 
life awaits him which from the beginning of time 
was pre-ordained for him. There God will wipe 
away all tears from our eyes, and there shall be 
no more death, neither sorrow nor weeping, 
neither shall there be any more pain ; for the 
former things are passed away. (Rev. xxi. 4.) 

Only a few minutes before his death, Jesus, the 
Saviour of the world, gave the sweet hope of im- 
mortality to the criminal crucified by his side. 
With dying voice Jesus said, " To-day thou shalt 
be with me in Paradise." 

God revealed to all mortals alike the eternal 
and imperishable nature of the human spirit. All 
nations of the earth believe in the continued ex- 
istence of then souls after death, though the one 
people has not received the blessed intelligence 
from the other. But the Deity has so organized 
the laws of human reason, that as soon as the 
mind has acquired a certain power of thought, it 
is spontaneously impelled to believe in the infinite 
future that awaits it. 

All religions, therefore, hold out this consolation, 
and even the heathen, when weeping over the 
corpse of one he loves, does not fail to lift his 
tearful eyes to the home beyond the grave. This 
universal agreement, this universal belief, is God's 
voice within us ! 



IMMORTALITY. 197 

How, indeed, should the abhorrent thought of 
eternal annihilation enter the mind of man, when 
all nature, the entire creation of God, bears wit- 
ness to the contrary ? Nothing that is in the 
world can ever be lost out of it. The grain of 
dust which you trample under foot was once part 
of a rock. The rock has ceased to exist, but its 
constituent parts are still present. And if the 
most insignificant of things endures forever, 
though in time it may undergo a thousand 
changes of condition and combination, can we 
believe that the noblest and most exalted of cre- 
ated beings known to us, the spirit of man, should 
be an exception ? When we see that the grain 
of dust will remain in the universe as long as the 
universe itself endures, can we believe that the 
soul of man, which alone can conceive of God 
and immortality, will last but for a few brief 
moments ? 

Two things are recognized in the domain of 
creation, ever distinct from each other, viz. dead 
matter, and certain hidden forces which unite and 
vivify the particles of that matter. These flowers, 
which owe nothing to the tending hand of man, 
spring from the earth. The plant, it is true, 
draws nourishment from water, earth, air, and 
light, but not every particle of earth or every 
ray of light becomes a plant. There is a secret 
power present, which causes the grass to be grass, 
and the oak to be an oak, and nothing else. This 



198 IMMORTALITY. 

secret power, which may, so to say, be regarded 
as the soul of the plants, knows how to draw 
towards each the nourishment most suited for it. 
Through means of this invisible, inexplicable 
power, the flowers have become flowers. 

What sayest thou now, Is it the dead sub- 
stances which, in combining, generate a myste- 
rious force ? or is it the secret kingdom of the 
forces that play with the dead matter, and give it 
manifold forms, life, movement, and enjoyment? 
If dead matter cannot disappear from the uni- 
verse, thinkest thou that the forces, the higher 
and nobler elements, can cease to exist ? When 
the plant is abandoned by its indwelling force, 
and it withers and returns to dust, has the power 
that once vivified it vanished from the universe ? 
Nay, thou dost not perceive it, but it is still active 
under other conditions. 

The same is the case as regards the human 
spirit, which is an infinitely higher and more won- 
derful power, so much so, indeed, that none of the 
other forces with which we are acquainted can be 
compared with it. And who can be unreasonable 
enough to believe that our bodies, composed of 
earthly matter, have produced the spirits within 
them, — that when the body returns to dust, the 
spirit must also perish? Is it not the spirit that 
takes care of, nourishes, and protects the body ; 
that directs its movements, and arbitrarily uses it 
as its instrument ? 



IMMORTALITY. 199 

Verily those only can be insane enough to 
doubt immortality, who feel that their lives have 
not been such as to deserve it, or who have reason 
to fear it. But they endeavor in vain to delude 
themselves, to destroy their own reason ! A voice 
within them cries aloud, Thy soul cannot perish ! 
It must continue to exist, and must appear before 
the judgment-seat! Sinner, sinner, there is a 
God; and as true as there is a God, thou art 
immortal, and thy deeds will follow thee into 
eternity. ' 

The human soul, that spark from the infinite 
ocean of divine light, that sublime power, which 
holds dominion over plants, minerals, and animals, 
which can raise itself to heaven, which calculates 
the movements of the spheres, and which, through 
an inward revelation, has become conscious of its 
divine origin, — this spirit, whose thoughts fly 
across mountains and seas, and penetrate to the 
throne of the Almighty, this spirit is a self-de- 
pendent essence. It exists for itself, and for 
naught else, nor as part of anything. It cre- 
ates, as it were, a little world for itself. It is 
connected with the rest of creation through its 
senses only, while observing the many changes 
that take place round it, and developing new 
power through them. If the human spirit were 
not created for itself alone, if it existed for the 
sake of other things, it would lose its value and 
cease to be, as soon as these other things, of which 



200 IMMORTALITY. 

it formed a part, disappeared. The spirit does 
not exist on account of the body, on account of 
the dust vivified by it, on account of this mere 
instrument, but the body exists on account of the 
spirit. It is the animating and guiding principle 
of the body. 

And the spirit's wonderful consciousness of its 
self-dependence, the firm conviction which it 
possesses that its exists for its own sake solely, 
and not as part of other things, is the divine 
guaranty of its immortality. In like manner 
the most exalted of spirits, the Deity, the Crea- 
tor, is not a part of the universe, is not part of 
aught else, but is self-existent and eternal. Yea, 
he who doubts the immortality of his own soul, 
may also, in such moments of fearful mental aber- 
ration, doubt thy existence, O God ! 

If we observe the unreasoning brutes, with their 
blind instincts and their capabilities, we perceive 
that all the powers with which the Creator has 
so wonderfully endowed them are necessary for, 
and conducive to, the support of life, and the 
attainment of such objects as they may have in 
life. 

Now, were the human spirit created merely for 
this fleeting life on earth, it would not have re- 
quired the many and superior faculties which the 
hand of God has bestowed on it. Had it received, 
like the rest of the animals, blind instincts to 
guide it, these would have sufficed in its case also 



IMMORTALITY. 201 

to provide nourishment and support for the body 
it animates. 

But of what use are the glorious faculties of 
our minds ? Why are we, by a wonderful con- 
catenation of circumstances, forced into improving 
these faculties ? Why should we possess a knowl- 
edge of God, if this God, before whose throne our 
spirits worship, is not our eternal Father ? Why 
did the hand of the All -merciful God implant in 
our hearts this undying yearning for continuous 
life, if it were meant never to be satisfied ? Were 
the immortality of the soul a delusion, would not 
man, with his superior knowledge and qualities, be 
far more to be pitied than the humblest of animals ? 
The latter knows not of death ; it takes no care 
for the coming hour. Why has God, the All-wise, 
endowed us with the faculty of anticipating the 
future ? Sceptic, wouldst thou dare to utter the 
blasphemous answer, " That we may be the more 
unhappy " ? Are we then to suppose that God 
has gloriously manifested his wisdom in stones, 
in plants, and in animals ; but that in man he 
has failed utterly? The animals attain, through 
means of their inferior capabilities, as great con- 
tentment, and as high a degree of perfection, as 
their nature is capable of; but man, with his far 
higher faculties, does not attain to anything ap- 
proaching the perfection of which his nature is 
susceptible. This life, therefore, does not suffice 
for the fulfilment and attainment of our destina- 

9* 



202 IMMORTALITY. 

tion. We bear within us the germ of a perfection 
of infinite growth, and therefore infinitude must 
have been a condition of our creation, or the 
world is a chaos, and the wisdom of God is at 
variance with itself, — a thought that none but a 
madman can entertain. 

Thou believest in a God, and yet, O rash and 
insensate man ! thou wouldst in thy aberration 
deny the manifestations of his wisdom in the won- 
derfully organized universe. Every star, every 
blade of grass, thine own conscience, all the 
events of thy life, all the nations of the earth, 
proclaim it in a thousand tongues, He is ! He is ! 

And if there be a God, and he be an all-perfect 
and all-holy Being, how durst thou doubt his jus- 
tice ? He who does not believe in the immortal- 
ity of the soul, and in a retributive justice dwelling 
above the stars, he believes in an imperfect God, 
he believes that man's mind conceives a higher 
justice than the acts of the Most Holy One mani- 
fest. 

For how can it be reconciled with Divine justice, 
that excellent men and women, that pious Chris- 
tians, who have suffered the direst misfortunes on 
earth for the sake of virtue, and without any fault 
of their own, should suffer thus, if there were no 
future compensation of supreme bliss for what 
they have here endured ; that bad men, that 
heartless tyrants, should spend their days amid 
pomp and pleasure, and be allowed unpunished 



- IMMORTALITY. 203 

to inflict upon their innocent fellow-men, upon 
individuals, families, and whole nations, intolerable 
evils and misfortunes ? If there be no supreme 
judge and no retributive justice in the universe, 
what mortal here on earth would venture to fol- 
low the dictates of virtue ? 

True, it is said that virtue is its own reward, 
— alas ! not always. How many have not sac- 
rificed every joy of life for righteousness' sake, 
and died under great suffering, faithful to the last 
to the divine laws ! No ; it is as little an unfailing 
rule on earth that virtue brings its own reward, as 
it is that vice always bring its own punishment. 
But patient Christians, as well as shameless sin- 
ners, have an intuitive belief in another world, 
and that eternal retribution dwells above the 
stars ! 

Yea, above the stars dwells the eternal Judge, 
meting out retributive justice. Weep not, suffer- 
ing friend of virtue ; despair not, persecuted and 
forsaken innocence ; the day of thy triumph will 
come. Bear thy cross courageously to the grave, 
as did Jesus ; like him, thou shalt live eternally. 

We are immortal ! not forever shall we be the 
prey of death. O, ye poor orphans, why do you 
lament so disconsolately by the grave of your 
father, your mother ? O father ! O mother ! why 
pine so at the death of your child? It has but 
preceded you into a better world. You are im- 
mortal, and you will find your lost treasure again, 



204 IMMORTALITY. 

- — God has willed it so. Your fate in regard to 
this was eternally pre-ordained when the plan of 
the world was laid. God will also call you away ; 
you will one day be happy in the blessed regions, 
while others will be weeping for you on earth. 

We are immortal ! — Sinner, well mayst thou 
turn pale ! The soul of that man, too, is immor- 
tal whom thou didst persecute with thy hatred 
and thy slanderous tongue ; immortal is also the 
starving wretch whom thou didst refuse to help, 
that thou mightest have the more to spend on 
thine own luxuries ; immortal the soul of the in- 
nocent girl seduced by thee, and thus robbed by 
thee of her every joy in life ; and immortal, like 
thine own, O proud man ! is the soul of thy fel- 
low-man whom thou tramplest under foot as thou 
dost the worm in the dust. 

We are immortal ! — O Christian, O meek fol- 
lower of Jesus, the souls of those also are immor- 
tal on whom thou hast bestowed thy good gifts. 
They will bear witness in thy favor before God. 
The tears which thou hast wiped from the eyes 
of sufferers will be transmuted into happiness for 
thee. The children whom with pious heart thou 
art educating for eternity will never be torn 
away from thee. They will be hereafter as they 
are here, the souls most closely akin to thine own. 

We are immortal ! God, my God ! nameless, 
merciful, wise, and just God, in this hope is com- 
prised all my earthly happiness. In thy world 



IMMORTALITY. 205 

there is no death, only life ! And that which we 
call death is only transformation. Thy entire 
universe is life. Thou thyself art Life ! How, 
then, could I be in thee, and cease to exist ? 
Thou hast not called me into existence for this 
short dream of life on earth, — thou chosest me 
for eternity, and Jesus who has risen from the 
dead shows me in his holy teachings the way to 
reach it. (Col. hi. 2.) 

O what inexpressible joy takes possession of 
my soul ! what rapture quickens the pulsations of 
my heart, at the thought of eternal existence I 
Sorrows of life, hours of suffering, what are ye ? — 
passing shadows that leave no trace behind them. 
Warnings from God to follow the holy teachings 
of Christ. Warnings from my Heavenly Father 
to remind me that I am called to eternal life. 

O my Father, I will cling closely to thee ! 
Through thy will I am immortal, and penetrated 
by thy Holy Spirit, I will endeavor to make my- 
self worthy of immortality. I will throw off my 
faults like defiling dust ; I will devote myself to 
God ; for I am immortal. With longing heart I 
strive to raise myself up to thee, O eternal 
Father ! Receive me and mine into thy glory ! 
Amen. 



WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE BE 
HIDDEN FROM US? 



Yes, I believe ; but clothed in dust, 
How weak is still the strongest trust, 
How oft my wavering faith hath failed, 
And wished its hope to sight revealed J 

For me, thou Life by which I live, 
O let thy Spirit witness give ; 
Death is not death, — 't is leaving earth, 
For nature's second, nobler birth. 

When once this transient life shall fail, 
Thy hand shall draw away the veil, — 
The veil that dims to mortal eye 
The vision of eternity. 

(2 Cor. v. 7.) 

OW often, when meditating on the 
future destiny of the soul, do not 
mortals say, "If we but knew how 
we shall fare in that future life ! If 
we had but some slight indication of what will be 
the state of the spirit after the death of the body ! 
If we had but some little knowledge of the abode 
into which the spirit will pass, some shadowy 
insight into its destination there, some faint pre- 
figurement of its joys and sorrows in eternity ! " 




FUTURE LIFE HIDDEN FROM US. 207 

Such wishes and questionings are pardonable. 
They do not, however, so much manifest the 
soul's noble longing for knowledge as they betray 
common curiosity and impatience. For the de- 
sire for knowledge will easily be satisfied with the 
conviction that the day will infallibly come when 
we shall know and experience it all, and that it 
will come as soon as it is good for us. But curi- 
osity will not rest content with this ; it wishes for 
knowledge merely to satisfy its craving ; it is like 
the inquisitive child, who, though certain that at a 
given time it will receive a gift from its tender 
parents, yet uselessly endeavors before the time 
comes to divine what the gift will be. 

Therefore human folly has ever been busy 
endeavoring to discover by subtle investigation 
the secrets of eternity. Therefore there have 
come into existence as many notions and fancies 
regarding the future life as there have been per- 
sons who have allowed their imaginations free 
play respecting the subject. Among the Jews 
as among the Turks, among the heathens as 
among the Christians, the most contradictory 
ideas prevail about the state of our immortal 
spirits after death, — ideas which are often highly 
unworthy of the greatness and majesty of God. 

Some believe that in the next world the soul 
will live in a state of sensual bliss, in the midst 
of lovely groves and gardens, where are spread 
richly-decked boards, at which they may feast 



208 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

whenever they please. Others believe that the 
soul sleeps in the grave until the great day of 
judgment shall come, when the dead shall arise 
and stand forth to receive their reward. Others, 
again, believe that, until the last day of the 
world, the souls will wander about partly under 
the earth, partly near the entrance to hell, partly 
in the air, partly in the vicinity of heaven ; and 
that they have the power to reveal themselves to 
living men at certain times, particularly during 
the night, in the form of ghosts, and thus to cre- 
ate terror for no reason or purpose. Others, 
again, think that the spirits of the departed roam 
about in some paradise, where their greatest hap- 
piness consists in remembering and recounting the 
deeds performed by them in their former exist- 
ence. Others teach that before the soul is admit- 
ted into paradise, or the place of eternal joy, it 
must undergo a period of probation, during which 
it will be cleansed of all the earthly wishes and 
cares and impurities that may still cling to it, in 
order that it may ultimately enjoy unmixed bliss. 
In vain, however, has human curiosity en- 
deavored to force open the gates of eternity, in 
order to discover that which lies beyond. It has 
never succeeded. The darkness in which God 
has wrapped the land of the future remains im- 
penetrable ; and of the dead, not one has yet 
come back to unveil to inquisitive man the secrets 
of the world of spirits. 



BE HIDDEN FROM US? ' 209 

Foolish speculations on this subject have never 
led to any useful or beneficent result. Men have 
tortured themselves with their own dreams. They 
have created for themselves terrific images, which 
have no existence except in their own heated 
brains. They have peopled their imaginations 
with ghosts, or supposed visible spirits, which in 
their timidity they fancy they see and hear every- 
where. They have spread, in consequence, not 
the realm of wisdom, but the realm of supersti- 
tion ; not the kingdom of God, but the kingdom 
of error and of heathenish fables. They have 
been less intent upon becoming like unto Jesus 
in feeling and actions, than upon disputations 
about their fancies and opinions. They have 
hoped more from long and formal prayers, from 
sacrifices and outward discipline, from fastings 
and purifications, than from following the example 
of Jesus in virtuous sentiments and works of 
love. Finally, they have placed the value and 
essence of Christianity more in certain dogmas 
and in faith, than in doing those things that are 
pleasing to God, as they are enjoined to do by 
Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount, and by the 
Apostles in all their speeches and epistles. In 
vain St. James cries to them, " What doth it 
profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath 
faith, and have not works ? Can faith save him ? " 
In vain thou criest to them, O Jesus Christ, " Not 
every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall 



210 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that 
doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven." 
They persist in their melancholy conceit ; super- 
stitious ceremonies, formal prayers, outward relig- 
ious observances are to them more than the call 
of Jesus, more than the warning love of Christ. 

Let me then sedulously avoid all mere curiosity 
on this solemn subject ; let me shun all notions 
and suppositions as to the state of departed souls, 
which may induce superstitious and irrational 
fears, and lead me to have recourse to unmeaning 
ceremonies. On earth there is for me but one 
great Revealer of divine and heavenly things, 
and this is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the 
Saviour of the world. He alone is my light, my 
loadstar in the darkness ; and all else that human 
beings, be they ever so wise and holy, would re- 
veal to me concerning eternal life, is only human 
conceptions, only their special views. 

But Jesus, who dwelleth ever in eternity, who 
was there in the beginning, and will be there ever- 
more, — Jesus has assured me that my soul is 
immortal ; yet he shed no light upon its state in 
the next life. He taught us that the soul of man, 
after its liberation from the body, would be re- 
moved into a higher and happier sphere, which 
God had prepared for it from the beginning; 
therefore he said to his companion on the cross, 
" To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise.' ' He 
taught that our spirits must prepare here on earth 



BE HIDDEN FROM US? 211 

for eternity ; that here already they belong to 
the great kingdom of God ; that this kingdom of 
God does not consist in outward signs, but is 
within us, in the virtuous and perfect mind. 
" The kingdom of God," said he, "is within 
you." (Luke xvii. 21.) He taught that accord- 
ing as each mortal in this life makes himself 
worthy of higher perfection and of a more bliss- 
ful state, so will it be meted out to him hereafter. 
There every one will be judged by his words, 
his thoughts, and his deeds, and receive the re- 
ward he merits. (Matt. xxv. 34 - 46.) 

With these explanations as to what we have to 
look forward to in eternity, the disciples of Christ 
must be satisfied. They know the value of eter- 
nal life, and to them the promises concerning it 
must bring joy. Here, on earth, " we walk by 
faith, not by sight ! " 

And why should I not be satisfied with the 
revelations given in the Holy Scriptures ? Why 
should not that which Jesus has promised be suf- 
ficient to tranquillize me ? Why should I rather 
listen to the promptings of my restless curiosity, 
than to the wisdom of my Divine Redeemer and 
Comforter ? 

Had the Deity thought it good for mankind that 
we should be able to look into eternity, and to 
penetrate its secrets, the power of doing so would 
have been bestowed upon us. But the Omniscient 
would not that it should be so ; and we may there- 



212 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

fore conclude that the faculty of following the 
spirits along their path in eternity would not be 
conducive to our happiness and well-being. It is 
withheld from us until the important hour when 
we shall ourselves become denizens of eternity. 

Thy inquisitive desire to solve the mysteries 
of the future world is therefore culpable, is un- 
worthy of thy profession as a Christian, proves a 
want of trust in the wisdom and fatherly love of 
God. Be assured, that the knowledge of that 
which the Lord conceals from thee would render 
thee unhappy. Are there not in like manner 
many things which mortal parents conceal from 
their children in infancy, but which are communi- 
cated to them when they reach a riper age ? 
Too early a disclosure of these matters might be 
injurious to the welfare of the entire family, or be 
hurtful to the children themselves. Who would 
blame the wisdom and prudence of these anxious 
parents, who in this very withholding of knowl- 
edge give a proof of their affection for their chil- 
dren ? Will not the child himself in later years 
thank his parents for their reticence ? 

And the same is the case with man in regard 
to God ! We also shall one day, when death 
breaks the dark seal of the mystery, recognize the 
wisdom of the all-loving Father, and stammer 
forth our thanks. We also shall smile at the fu- 
tility of our endeavors, at the childishness of our 
fancies, respecting the eternal future. We also 



BE HIDDEN FROM US? 213 

shall then repent with justice of our want of trust 
in the Eternal Wisdom and Mercy. 

However incapable we may be, while dwelling 
here in the dust, and with our limited faculties, of 
understanding the councils and the exalted ends 
of the Most High, it is much easier for us to 
divine why the hand of God has veiled to our 
eyes the face of eternity, than it is to lift this veil, 
even in the least degree. 

The less we know with certainty that which 
awaits us after this life, the purer, the more un- 
selfish, will our virtue be on earth. 

What is Christian virtue ? Wherein consists 
the holiness which Jesus demands of us ? In self- 
improvement, self-bestowed blessedness. Chris- 
tian duty, as Christ understood it, must have no 
other end than itself; it must not be a means to 
secure this or that advantage ; it must not be a 
mere measure of prudence. 

What value is there in that virtue which makes 
me give alms to the poor, in order that I may 
gain honor among men, — which makes me avoid 
enmities in order that my life may be more easy, — 
which leads me to afford help, that I may be 
helped in my turn, — that induces me to perform 
acts of public utility, that I may win popularity, — 
that makes me act honestly in order to gain con- 
fidence, — that makes me amiable in manner in 
order that I may be praised, — that makes me 
show friendship to those who may show me friend- 



214 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

ship in return? Is this virtue, as Jesus under- 
stood it ? Nay, it is but prudence ! It is a cal- 
culation how to gain great advantages by means 
of small sacrifices. " For if ye love them which 
love you, what reward have ye ? And if ye 
salute your brethren only, what do you more than 
others ? " No ; " ye must be perfect, as your 
Father in heaven is perfect " ; that is to say, your 
goodness must be without selfishness, you must 
not debase your virtue into a mere measure of 
prudent calculation, you must expect no higher 
reward than is comprised in that virtue itself. 

He who does not love it for its own sake, O 
he can never have known it ! A child who is 
only obedient when he is promised a reward, is 
not a wise or good child, but a calculating and 
selfish one. 

God is perfect, because he is God, and in his 
own perfection he finds the highest bliss. God is 
perfect not in order to gain outward advantages ; 
and he is merciful, gracious, and beneficent, not in 
order that weak man, a poor worm in the dust, 
should worship him. And in this spirit Jesus tells 
us to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect. 

We are to improve ourselves, to become holy 
through the practice of every virtue, not in order 
to receive some other reward, but because in this 
improvement and sanctification is comprised the 
happiness of the spirit. The most virtuous and 
the wisest man is the happiest, simply because he 



BE HIDDEN FROM US? 215 

is the most perfect. That which he was here 
below, that his spirit will remain on entering 
eternity; and his reward in that better life is, 
that he is allowed ever to approach nearer to the 
Divine perfection, ever to grow in likeness to 
God. 

If any one avoid evil from fear of punishment, 
he is prudent, but not virtuous. If any one re- 
frain from stealing from fear of chains and prison, 
shall we therefore call him pious ? Who can 
assure me that he would not steal if there were 
no chains, no prison? If any one refrain from 
sin through fear of hell, is he therefore righteous ? 
Or, when any one does good in this life in the 
hope that he will be richly rewarded in the next, 
is he therefore a saint, in the spirit of Jesus? 
If he had no hope, or only a vacillating hope of 
future reward, would he act equally well ? And 
if not, is his selfish virtue other than a well- 
calculated means to purchase a great good for a 
small outlay ; to gain, at the price of a small sac- 
rifice of a few minutes' duration, an eternity of 
bliss ? 

Nay, it is a beneficent arrangement that earth- 
ly eyes should not be able to penetrate eternity. 
Our virtue on earth is thereby rendered so much 
the more pure and unselfish, because, ignorant 
as to what is to follow, we are thrown entirely 
upon ourselves. 

But suppose a revelation of the future world 



216 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

should be made to us, should we be able to com- 
prehend it? How is it possible that, bound in 
the fetters of earth as we are, and with faculties 
proportionately limited, we. should have the power 
of comprehending the supernatural? How can 
the sensual embrace the spiritual ? All descrip- 
tions would be insufficient to enlighten us, because 
we lack means of comparison. 

If a traveller from our part of the globe visited 
the savages of the Pacific, and attemped to de- 
scribe to them the comforts of life and the mental 
superiority enjoyed by man in our regions, how 
would he make himself understood, as no con- 
ception of the kind exists in the mind of the 
savage ? If a man blessed with sight were to 
describe to a man born blind the beauties of a 
landscape, the sublime forms of the lofty moun- 
tains at the foot of which roll majestic streams, 
and around whose summits are gathered clouds 
glowing in the golden rays of the setting sun, 
in what words would he represent to the blind 
man, who knows not what light is, the wonderful 
beauties of creation ? The blind man would re- 
main, as before, in darkness, without the power 
of comprehending what the other attempted to 
convey to him ; but greater sadness would take 
possession of him at the thought that he was ex- 
cluded from so much happiness that fell to the 
share of others. 

Well, then, what are we mortals more than 



BE HIDDEN FROM US? 217 

persons born blind as regards the glories of the 
future existence that awaits us? Those glories 
can only be seen by earth-freed spirits, and were 
one of these to appear to us, and to describe the 
greatness, the goodness, the majesty of the Crea- 
tor, as they are manifested in those blessed 
realms, and the condition of the souls that have 
thrown off the bonds of flesh, should we be able 
to comprehend what he told us ? Should we not 
be overwhelmed with sadness at the thought that 
other creatures of God were so infinitely more per- 
fect and more blessed than we ? Should we not 
think the joys which God has bestowed upon us 
here below very insignificant in comparison with 
those he has in store for us? O, let us rest as- 
sured that it was with a wise hand that the Eter- 
nal God veiled the glories of eternity from the 
eyes of those who, being here on earth, cannot 
yet be allowed to partake of them ; for to behold 
them would but make us less happy than we are 
now, when the joys that we do feel are the great- 
est that we know. 

Were we allowed to have a glimpse of the bliss 
of future worlds, our impatience to attain it would 
imbitter our life upon earth. How soon and how 
easily may not the barriers of life be overleapt ! 
How many thousand sufferers would not in mo- 
ments of impatience, forgetful of their duties, 
determine to leave this world ! 

But it is God's will that we should work out 
10 



218 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 

our destination on earth, as far as it is to be ful- 
filled here ; that we should not voluntarily and 
capriciously put an end to our earthly career, but 
that we should pursue it to its furthest goal. 

Therefore, he placed as guardians before the 
closed gates of eternity, fear and anxious doubt, 
and the awful stillness of death, and impenetrable 
darkness. 

These guardians drive back the human race, 
that it may pursue to the end its appointed path 
on earth. 

In spite of all the discomforts of life, in spite 
of our impatient longing to be reunited with the 
friends who have gone before us to our eternal 
home, the terrors that surround the portals of 
eternity repel us, and we continue our earthly 
journey with calmer spirits. 

Were it not for that darkness and terror, 
should we not be like wearied mariners, who, 
after a long voyage on the stormy seas, behold at 
a short distance the shores of their beloved coun- 
try? They see the calm and secure haven, 
where wind and tempest no longer threaten de- 
struction ; they already discover the verdant trees 
and the peaceful cottages ; their hearts yearn 
towards their homes ; their eyes are suffused 
with tears of mingled joy and sadness at the 
long-missed sight. They tremble. Every min- 
ute before they reach the shore seems a year. 
Ah! they recognize already their wives, their 



BE HIDDEN FROM USt 219 

brothers, their parents, their children, their be- 
loved maidens waiting for them there. They 
see their arms opened to receive them, and hear 
from afar the longing cries of affection. What 
prevents them from flying at once into those 
arms, to weep out their joy on those bosoms, 
in which the heart beats so tenderly for them ? 
" O home ! O joy ! which we have so long 
missed ! " all exclaim. They forget the helm 
of the ship, the waves of the sea, the rocks, the 
surf around them; they forget the treasures 
which they have gathered together on the long 
and wearisome voyage, — they throw themselves 
into the sea, to reach the sooner the shores of 
their home. 

Such would be the lot of mortals, did not the 
dark ocean separate them, for their own good, 
from their heavenly home. 

But not forever, O my God! does it separate 
me from the dearly beloved beings who are await- 
ing me there ! I shall one day behold these 
shores of my better fatherland ; I shall at length 
see them again, those loved ones, to whom my 
heart clings so tenderly ; and shall rest among 
them after the dangers and hardships that I have 
undergone on my voyage across the stormy waters 
of life. 

Yes ; be comforted, O spirit ; God has prepared 
thy haven of rest ! God has kept a home open for 
thee, where thou wilt find with delight what thou 



220 FUTURE LIFE HIDDEN FROM US. 

hast lost here. Thou wilt not be alone; thy loved 
ones are already awaiting thee. They beckon to 
thee with the palm of victory which thou art to 
fight for here below. Up, then, my soul, fight 
out the battle ! Raise thyself, through the aid of 
Jesus' Holy Word, in the Holy Spirit of Jesus to 
that perfection, through which alone thou canst 
become a denizen of that better land, a partaker 
of that more blissful eternity! It is the Lord 
that cries to thee, " Be faithful unto death, and I 
will give thee the crown of life." 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

I know, I know in whom I trust, 
And bow me humbly in the dust, 

My Saviour, God, and Lord, to thee. 
If from my sins I may be freed, 
If I may hope thy help in need, 

O, then must heaven my portion be 1 

And when my last sleep draweth near, 
Then dare I, without doubt or fear, 

To the beloved One look on high. 
And none who knew me here, and loved, 
"Will e'er repent, or stand unmoved, 

Beside the grave in which I lie. 

(Rev. xiv. 13.) 




; NE thing after another fades and dies 
away : herbs of the field, animals, and 
man. We come, we look around us, 
and depart again from this world. 
Whether we are to depart in the bloom of youth, 
or in the fulness of years, — who can say ? And 
in the end it is of little consequence, — for of 
what importance are a few days, a few years more 
or less ? That which is past is as if it had never 
been. The dust of the infant and the dust of the 
old man rest side by side in the grave, and there 
is now no difference between them. Another 



222 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

generation moves above them, which knows 
naught of them, makes no mention of them, 
lives on, but is soon to be laid low by their 
side. 

We are all aware of this, and we dread the 
moment, but in vain. Whether it be on the field 
of battle, or on the bed of sickness, or in the 
midst of our relatives, or in a lonely prison, it 
matters little ; it is sure to come. 

To delude ourselves in regard to it, and never 
to look forward to that moment, is as senseless as 
it is to be ever tormenting ourselves with thoughts 
of death, and thus imbittering all enjoyment in 
life. But it is wise to keep in store, for that 
solemn and dreaded moment, a joy that will turn 
all bitterness to sweetness. 

Many persons, it is true, do think of this, but 
they do not always make a good choice. They 
are frequently very one-sided in their selection of 
that which is to comfort them in the hour of dis- 
solution. 

There are many who toil anxiously their whole 
life through to amass money, in order that they 
may leave their children a respectable fortune, 
or at least a competence. That is undoubtedly 
very praiseworthy. It must certainly be a great 
comfort to them in their last hour, when parting 
from those dear ones, to think that they are pro- 
vided for, though no one may be there to watch 
over them. That they are not quite forsaken, 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 223 

are not quite without means, will not be beggars, 
or be hustled about as troublesome beings ; that 
they are placed in a position to lead an indepen- 
dent and honorable life. Assuredly this is a great 
comfort. Yet it is but a poor joy. For the good 
or the evil fortune of our dear ones, after our 
death, does not rest solely on the money that we 
may leave them. Their future lot depends far 
more upon their skill, their knowledge, their vir- 
tues, and upon the friendship of their fellow-men, 
and the blessing of God. All the money in the 
world cannot make us happy, if our mental dispo- 
sition be adverse. It is true, that a moderate 
fortune will save our children from too great de- 
pendence on the favor and caprice of other men. 
But it is only he who has educated his children 
so as to render them happy and contented, inde- 
pendently of money, that Can say that he leaves 
them true riches, which thieves cannot steal, and 
circumstances not impair, and moth not eat. 
Finally, if we can find no better comfort in the 
hour of the last parting from our loved ones, than 
that we leave them some pecuniary means where- 
with to get on in the world, then we have done 
little indeed ! Even the heathens do this ! We 
have only fulfilled a most urgent duty, and grati- 
fied our own ambition. 

Others store up for the hour of death a joy 
which they have been hard-hearted enough to 
deny themselves all their life long. "We hear 



224 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

that persons who are dying have forgiven their 
enemies, and have been sincerely reconciled to 
them. 

True, to be reconciled to enemies is a delight 
to the soul. And to desire to be so is a proof of 
a noble disposition, if we have given offence by 
our pride, our covetousness, or our irrepressible 
anger. But if we look closely at it, what is a 
reconciliation with our enemies on the bed of 
death ? In fact, nothing more than a declaration 
that we wish to make peace with them now that 
we can no longer injure them. What would you 
think of the sincerity of the desire for reconcilia- 
tion of a man who, when thrown into prison, 
promises peace and good- will, and asks your for- 
giveness for the past ? And are not those who 
propose reconciliation on their death-bed in the 
same case ? Are all those present whom we have 
in the course of life offended by word or by deed ? 
Can our will to be reconciled to them make 
amends for the many painful hours and days we 
have caused them by our quarrelsome and un- 
amiable disposition ? And are we sure they have 
forgiven us all our trespasses ? "Why hast thou 
postponed till the hour of death that which thou 
wert bound to do every day of thy life, and why 
makest thou peace then only, when thy enmity 
can no longer be dangerous ? Dost thou think 
that the wish, forced upon thee by the fear in thy 
heart, is sufficient to stifle the sighs of those thou 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 225 

hast offended, so that they shall not rise up to 
Heaven to witness against thee ? 

Of others, again, we hear that, when disposing 
of their property by will, they have not been for- 
getful of the poor, that they have bestowed be- 
nevolent gifts on almshouses, and on other useful 
public institutions ; sometimes, that they have 
made special arrangements for restoring that 
which they have acquired by unrighteous means 
to the rightful owners. This is right. We ought 
not to depart from this world with the conscious- 
ness of having committed a wrong, without taking 
means to make all the amends in our power. And 
it is praiseworthy to think of the good of the com- 
monwealth, also, in the disposition we may make 
of our fortunes after our death. Not only our 
children or our blood-relatives are our kindred, 
all the children of God, all those for whom Jesus 
died, are so likewise. However, the pleasure 
which we feel in giving away that which death 
forbids us any longer to possess must be rather a 
sad one. Why, O miserly, ungenerous spirit, dost 
thou not give away in thy lifetime, and thus pro- 
mote joy and happiness ? Then that would have 
been a merit which in thy last hour ceases to be one. 
The poor widow mentioned in the Gospels, indi- 
gent as she was, brought her mite to the treasury. 
But thou hast been saving that thou mightest in- 
crease thy goods, and thou hast only become gen- 
erous now that the moment has arrived when thou 
10* o 



226 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

canst no longer thyself enjoy thy riches. Thou, 
who hast spent thy fortune in splendid entertain- 
ments, in pomp and luxury, in tickling thy palate 
with high-priced delicacies, and hast only begun 
to think of clothing the naked and feeding the 
hungry since illness and the approach of death 
have deprived thee of the power of continuing 
thy life of revelry and self-indulgence, — what 
merit hast thou ? Thou growest more abstemious 
because thy appetite fails thee, and thou givest 
away what thou canst no longer use. Verily thy 
virtue is not great ; canst thou hope that it will 
suffice to sweeten the bitter cup of death ? 

It is a consolation in the hour of death to see 
one's self surrounded by friends and dear rela- 
tives, and to behold in their grief and tears a grat- 
ifying testimony of then' affection and tender at- 
tachment. But does this suffice to take away all 
the bitterness of the last moment? Who is not 
saddened by the sight of death ? It is impossible 
to witness without emotion the last sigh of even 
a perfect stranger. Can we then regard it as a 
merit in ourselves, as a proof of our inward worth, 
that those who have been accustomed to live with 
us for long years, with whom we have enter- 
tained relations of the closest intimacy, should 
weep at our death ? Would it not be more grati- 
fying to know in our last hour that those also 
with whom we have never, or at least but rarely, 
held personal intercourse, will grieve when they 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 227 

hear of our departure ? That the whole commu- 
nity will lament and say, " We have lost an up- 
right fellow-citizen, a supporter of the poor and 
afflicted, an active promoter of every good under- 
taking, a pleasant companion, a philanthropist in 
the fullest sense of the word " ? 

Truly, one of the greatest joys that can he ours 
at the moment of death is the consciousness that 
in quitting the world we leave hehind us a mem- 
ory respected hy all who knew us ; while, on the 
other hand, there can be no greater pain than to 
have the conviction that many survive who wish 
that they had never known us, or had never been 
brought into closer connection with us. 

That sweetest of comforts, that none who sur- 
vived him regretted having known him, was en- 
joyed in death by Jesus Christ. He died the 
death of supreme self-sacrifice for the happiness 
of all souls ; he died the death of inexpressible 
love, even for the ungrateful, who still misjudged 
him. He died, but even his persecutors admired 
him ; even his judges declared, " We see no evil 
in him." A deluded people, in a storm of wild 
passion, put him to death, — but Jerusalem wept. 
After the lapse of a few days his enemies were 
seized with an avenging panic, and thousands who 
had turned away from him again sought refuge 
with him. Even to this day, after very nearly 
two thousand years, the race redeemed by him 
grieves at the memory of his sufferings and his 



228 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

death. Verily, this is to die in God ! This is to 
be followed by the blessings of one's works long 
after death. 

" Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
from henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
may rest from their labors ; and their works do 
follow them." (Rev. xiv. 13.) 

And this — yea, none but this — is the last 
earthly joy that every wise man and woman, 
every true Christian, ought to store up for the 
hour of death. With such consciousness it is 
sweet to fall asleep. But what is meant by dying 
in the Lord ? It means to die in the spirit and in 
the holiness of Jesus Christ. But what is meant 
by dying in Jesus ? It means, to die, not merely 
believing in God and in Jesus, (for the devils also 
believe and tremble,) but to be one with Jesus. 
And how can we die in Jesus, if we have not 
lived in Jesus ? What is meant by living in 
Jesus ? It means to live and act in his faith, in 
his spirit, and according to his example ; to live 
and to act as he would have lived, thought, and 
acted, had he been in our place. 

Only he who has lived in the Lord can die hi 
the Lord. Only he who dies in the Lord can be 
called blessed. He rests from his labors, — he 
rests, not from his pleasures, not from his en- 
deavors after riches, honors, and admiration, or 
after pomp and splendor, but from his labors for 
the good and happiness of others. And he may 
be called blessed, for his works do follow him. 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH 229 

They follow him to the hour of his death, and 
the remembrance of them is then his last con- 
solation. He departs joyfully, with the happy 
thought : of all that survive me, there is not one 
who repents having known me, or having been 
brought into closer or more distant connection 
with me. I leave no one behind me who rejoices 
at my being removed from the ranks of the liv- 
ing, because my existence has been oppressive 
and hateful to him. No ; I leave a circle of 
friends to not one of whom I have wilfully done 
an injury, even though I may have done them no 
good. I have effected in my life as much as 
was in my power. I often asked myself, when 
about to act or speak, Would Jesus have acted, 
have thought, have spoken thus, had he been in 
like circumstances ? I have lived in the Lord, 
and therefore I die in the Lord. My Saviour 
lives, and I also shall live. Blessed is he who 
dies thus, for his works do follow him. 

They follow him to the grave. O what fu- 
neral pomp can be compared to the remembrance 
of our virtues by those we leave behind us ; to 
the tears of affection with which our friends dwell 
upon our goodness ; to the respect with which 
our fellow-citizens cherish our memory; to the 
emotion with which even strangers exclaim, Truly 
this man may be called blessed in death, for his 
meritorious works follow him ! yea, they follow 
him, and will be turned into blessings for his 



230 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

children and his children's children. His name, 
which lives in the remembrance of his fellow- 
citizens, is the best recommendation for the rela- 
tives he leaves behind him. The world is willing 
to reward a deceased father and mother by con- 
ferring benefits on their children. In these the 
parents are honored ! Woe to him who has 
nothing to leave his beloved ones but money and 
money's worth ! Riches vanish, but an honor- 
able name, acquired through the possession of 
great virtues, is a sacred treasure, which neither 
the flames of war, nor the cunning of dissemblers, 
nor the injustice of the great, nor the violence of 
the ruthless, can destroy. When the mind of 
the dying can dwell complacently on this thought, 
they enjoy in death unutterable bliss ; for they 
are conscious that " their works do follow them." 
They follow them into the better life beyond the 
grave. Far above the stars, and — let every 
sinner tremble at the thought, and every right- 
eous man rejoice — above the stars dwells retrib- 
utive justice. The God of justice lives, and I 
shall live with him. What I have done to the 
least of Jesus' brethren and mine, I have done 
to him. God will requite me ! The heart-felt 
thanks of the sufferers whom I have comforted 
will be echoed in heaven. The glistening tears 
of joy or emotion which a feeling heart sheds on 
hearing of good deeds done by me unostentatious- 
ly and disinterestedly, are reflected in heaven ; 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH 231 

the deep-felt but unobtrusive praise — unheard 
and unsought for by me on earth — with which 
my companions mention the philanthropic insti- 
tutions, or other works of public utility, which 
I have founded, will be heard by me in heaven. 
Ah ! what rapture must fill the heart of the dying 
man when he can say to himself, " Far from leav- 
ing behind me any one who is likely to curse my 
memory, I may confidently hope that many will 
remember me with affection " ! 

I shall one day die ! this is beyond a doubt. 
But shall I, in the hour of death, feel that ineffable 
joy which sweetens the bitterness of parting ? 
Ought I not to wish that it may be so ? Is there 
anything I dread so much as the hour of dissolu- 
tion ? And why not, then, endeavor to lay up 
such store of gladness for it as may lie in my 
power ? Ah, " blessed are they who die in the 
Lord"! 

How, if the next night were to be my last ? or 
the next month ? (Who knows when the hour 
may come when God shall call him from his 
works ?) Should I, in that case, taste the last 
and sweetest of all earthly joys ? 

If I were doomed to die this instant, could I lay 
my head on my death-bed pillow with the con- 
sciousness that I leave no one behind me in the 
world who has reason to repent of having been 
connected with me in any way ? Is there no one 
who, by word, deed, or example, I have led into 



t 
232 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 

sin ? No one who needs blush in secret when re- 
membering me ? Is there no one whom I have 
injured in the estimation of his fellow-citizens by 
envious gossip, by rash judgment, or by reckless 
sarcasm ? Is there no one who is vexed when he 
hears my name, because I have maliciously injured 
his good repute through love of disparagement ? 
Is there no one from whom I have unjustly taken, 
and perhaps still keep back, what was his by right ? 
Who has perhaps failed to demand it of me, be- 
cause I have so cunningly managed that he did 
not know who was his despoiler ? Shall I leave 
to my heirs property so unrighteously acquired, 
and to which no blessing can attach ? Is there no 
one whose life I have imbittered by my caprices, 
by my discontented, quarrelsome, domineering dis- 
position ? Is there no one who may one day la- 
ment that I have not attended more carefully to his 
education ? Is there no one whom I have offend- 
ed, and whose forgiveness I ought to seek ? Is 
there no one who has injured me, and whom I 
still hate, or with whom I am still at variance ? 

I shall one day die ! that is beyond a doubt. 
But shall I die in the Lord ? Have I lived in the 
Lord ? Ah ! I must veil my face from Thee, O 
Searcher of hearts, O omniscient God, O most 
holy Avenger ! For I feel, when examining my- 
self, that I am not quite blameless. I have still to 
repair much evil that I have done. I have still to 
make amends for many things which it behooves 



A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 233 

me not to forget. I have not always lived in 
thee, my Saviour, and therefore I could not now 
die joyfully in thee. It would have been easy for 
me to confer some little pleasure on each one of 
my acquaintances, and to render them some ser- 
vice had I availed myself of every favorable 
opportunity, and yet I have rarely done so. Alas ! 
I may have frequently done the contrary. Ah ! I 
hardly dare to think of it. 

Yet, hear my promise, O omnipresent God ! I 
will think of it ; I will improve, I will make rep- 
aration, I will redeem what I have neglected, I 
will live in Jesus, that I may one day, blessed in 
death, fall asleep in the Lord, with the conscious- 
ness that I leave no one behind me who has cause 
to regret having known me. I may therefore 
apply to myself also the heavenly words : " Bless- 
ed are the dead which die in the Lord from hence- 
forth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest 
from their labors, and their works do follow 
them ! " 



THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES OF 
THOSE WE LOVE. 



Vital spark of heavenly flame, 
Quit, quit this mortal frame : 
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying ; 
O the pain, the bliss of dying ! 
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 
And let me languish into life. 

Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, 
Sister spirit, come away. 
What is this absorbs me quite ? 
Steals my senses, shuts my sight, 
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath 1 
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? 

The world recedes ; it disappears ! 
Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears 

With sounds seraphic ring ; 
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! 
O Grave ! where is thy victory ? 

O Death ! where is thy sting 1 

(Luke xxiii. 46.) 

LADLY do I turn my thoughts to you, 
O beloved ones, who have gone before 
me into a better world ! O ye never- 
to-be-forgotten objects of my heart's 
devotion, my longing for you is so great, that it 
seems to lift me above the dust in which I still 




THOUGHTS OF THOSE WE LOVE. 235 

dwell ! It is you who, with angel hands, as it 
were, bind closer the ties that unite the here and 
the hereafter, who strew roses on the bed of death 
on which I shall one day be stretched, and who 
rob dissolution itself of all its terrors. To think 
of you, to hope for reunion with you, is to add to 
my happiness here below, and is one of the sweet- 
est duties of my heart's religion. 

I know that in remote times, when the heathens 
saw the Christians praying at the grains of those 
they loved, and even in our day, when Christianity 
reminds its votaries of God and of eternity, the 
religion of Christ was, and is still called, a severe 
and saddening worship, incapable of inspiring 
cheerfulness, contentment, or joy in life ; and 
that, in consequence, many have turned away 
from it. But these contemners of Christianity 
have not been sufficiently acquainted w T ith it, or 
have judged it according to the dark views and 
melancholy dispositions of individual preachers, 
who loved to inspire their hearers with dread by 
the pictures which they drew of the terrors of the 
judgment, and the sufferings of the condemned, 
and by the idea which they gave of eternity. 
These men preached a Godhead as prone to an- 
ger, as inexorable, and as revengeful as themselves. 

Nevertheless, the God of Christianity is the 
God of love and gladness, for he is the Father of 
the beings he has created. The religion of Jesus 
is a religion of love and joy, for it encourages 



236 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

innocent cheerfulness, moderate enjoyment of the 
gifts of the Father, and contentment with our lot ■ 
its object is perfection and happiness ; and even 
death, so much dreaded by all creatures, the Chris- 
tian religion disarms of its terrors, making it ap- 
pear as an angel of love and joy, which comes not 
to destroy existence, but to lift it into a higher 
sphere. The infidel, the man who scoffs at Chris- 
tianity, may tremble at death, but to the Christian 
sage it comes as a friendly messenger from God ; 
and for this reason Christians are pleased at times 
to contemplate death. To them the thought is not 
fraught with melancholy, but with exquisite pleas- 
ure, because, by raising expectations of a higher 
bliss in the future it makes the present the more 
delightful. For joy is always purest and most 
lively when, instead of contemplating its melan- 
choly end, we can look forward to its uninterrupted 
continuation. And such is the hope of the Chris- 
tian. 

Although on approaching the graves of our 
dear ones, or when communing in spirit with 
them, a feeling of sadness may steal over us, this 
sadness is not unhappiness, but a sweet uplifting 
of the soul by a rapturous yearning toward those 
that have gone before us. Know ye not that bliss 
can have its sadness, and silent joy its tears ? If 
ye will call this feeling pain, O then it is a sweet 
pain, in which there is greater enjoyment than 
noisy mirth reveals. Know ye not that when a 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 237 

delicate and refined soul is most penetrated by joy 
it is most attuned to melancholy, and that this 
feeling in its turn is followed by serene composure 
and tranquil happiness ? 

When a father or a mother sinks down by the 
grave of a lost darling, or when the sight of the 
trifles which the dear departed one was fond of in 
life, calls forth his memory in livelier colors ; when 
a gentle and affectionate child treasures up, as a 
sacred relic after the death of father or mother, 
some object that has belonged to either ; when 
husband or wife separated from the loved partner 
of life, and, cherishing the remembrance of their 
mutual love and their happy marriage, places great 
store upon some ring, or some letters traced by the 
dear hand as a token of the affection that united 
them in life, and a symbol of the indissoluble 
union of their souls ; when lovers early parted, or 
when friends, brothers, sisters, remember in soli- 
tude and retirement the dear ones they have lost ; 
when, with many a deep-drawn sigh, their lips 
whisper the cherished name ; when their tears 
falling on the grave bear witness to their undying 
affection ; — is it pain and anguish which they expe- 
rience, or a sad but heavenly satisfaction ? If no 
gratification is mixed up with these tears and sighs, 
why, then, do we mortals, who are so prone to 
shun everything that is painful, so often indulge in 
such sorrow ? 

No, no ; there is nothing painful in the thought 



238 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

of you, my departed ones ! Where there is 
true love there is also true happiness. Here in 
my imperfect state I still cling to you with un- 
changing devotion ; here in the dust I still re- 
member you with unaltered affection. Ah ! and 
may I not hope that you, in your glorified state, 
though much more perfect than I am, still re- 
member with affection my faithful, loving heart ? 
Would your happiness be heightened were you 
not allowed to love in return those that love you ? 
Would He, whose name is Love, who binds mag- 
netically together distant worlds and stars, and 
who has bestowed affection as the sweetest of his 
gifts on all sentient beings under the sun ; would 
he have ordained it so, that the better life be- 
yond the grave should commence with the annihi- 
lation of that true love which is the universal law 
of creation ? No, no ; faithful souls, in time and 
in eternity, commune lovingly with each other, 
and join hands above the grave. I have not for- 
gotten you, and ye are cognizant of my love ; ye 
behold the tears, and hear the sighs with which 
my heart affectionately calls to you. Ye are 
aware of my undying tenderness, and ye respond 
to it according to the sublime conditions of your 
higher existence. 

Flow freely, tears of sadness ; bleed again and 
again, old and deep wounds of my faithful heart ! 
Ah ! those who have departed from me were 
truly worthy of such homage. Ye are, as it 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 239 

were, the sacred and only offerings which I can 
now bring them. It is a sweet pleasure to me to 
think that they to whom these offerings are made 
see them and appreciate them. Flow, O tears ! 
open again, O bleeding wounds of my heart! 
With the blood that gushes forth from these 
wounds vanishes gradually all that is most sens- 
uous in me, and I cease to cling so tenaciously to 
the empty vanities of life. With this blood also 
flows out many of my worst passions which in- 
cline me to attach to the joys or sorrows of this 
life more value than they deserve. In thinking 
of the glorified spirits my own spirit is purified, 
and calm contentment spreads through my heart. 
It is only where faith in God and immortality fail, 
and man in his blindness believes that with death 
all ends, that this contentment can never be felt, 
and that sorrow for lost loved ones assumes the 
form of dark despair. In those cases the tears 
of hopeless grief become a solemn accusation of 
cruelty against the Highest Being, and seem to 
declare that man is^ nobler and more full of love 
than the all-animating and all-uniting Deity who 
is enthroned above the stars. 

It is folly indeed for the mourner, when think- 
ing of the departed, to figure to himself only their 
earthly form, in all the loveliness with which it 
was invested in life, and then to contrast it with 
what it is, as it lies cold and inanimate in the 
grave, — to think of their former tender affection 



240 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

for him, which now finds no voice ; their former 
joyous disposition, and the delight they took in 
the things of this earth, which they have now lost 
forever, as though it were their bodies that had 
entertained this affection for him, as though it 
were their earthly ashes that had experienced 
these feelings of delight! Why, even in the 
animal, it is not that which it has drawn from 
the earth, it is not its flesh and blood that experi- 
ence pleasure, but a something higher that dwells 
in it. 

They who mourn over the dead because they 
are no longer able to enjoy those pleasures of life 
which were dear to them here below, may be 
likened to a child that mourns over the departure 
of a friend of maturer age, who has left him to 
hasten into the arms of affectionate parents, or 
of a loving bride, or to accept some post of honor. 
The child deplores that his friend can no longer 
take part in his sports, but in reality, instead of 
grieving for his absent friend, he is weeping over 
the abandoned toys that are laid aside as useless. 
Ought we to feel pity for that which is utterly- 
dead, and which is incapable of suffering ? But 
such is the state of the body, the mortal coil of 
the soul, the left-off garment of the departed 
friend. 

Does it not sometimes happen in our sorrow, 
that, giving ourselves up to strange delusions and 
to mistaken pity, we lament over the fate of the 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 24:1 

"body, tlie outward form, while we entirely forget 
the soul that animated it ? For if we thought of 
the spirit, how could we weep over it as dead 
when we know that it lives? 

Frequently, also, it is the commiseration we feel 
with the sufferings our beloved ones underwent 
in their last illness, or in the very hour of death, 
that causes our tears to flow. In these cases our 
feelings seem more justifiable ; yet, upon reflec- 
tion, we shall find that here also we are deluded 
by our senses and our imagination. I cannot be- 
lieve that death, i. e. the departure of the soul 
from the body, is in itself painful. At all events, 
it cannot be more so than the illness which causes 
death, and yet the most dangerous maladies are 
generally attended by the least suffering, how- 
ever terrible they may be to witness. For how 
often has it not been asserted by those that have 
recovered from such illnesses, that when they 
were nearest death they suffered very little and 
were but partially conscious ? We also know 
that in distressing complaints the patient grows 
more and more composed as the moment of dis- 
solution draws nearer, and that, in many cases 
of slow disease or of decay of the vital powers 
from old age, death approaches so gently, that it 
seems in truth but a falling asleep. Consequent- 
ly, we have a right to conclude that dying is in 
itself not painful, (for if it were it would be so 
in every case,) or at all events, that it is not more 
n p 



242 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

so than the illness that precedes it, for otherwise 
death would not bring with it that increased com- 
posure, that painless stupor, which is so much like 
sleep. Now, if you do not weep and despairing- 
ly lament over those who have recovered from a 
severe illness because of the sufferings they en- 
dured in its course, why do you thus mourn for 
those whom the gentle hand of death has released 
from their sufferings ? Were not the pain and the 
illness the same, whether the patient recovered or 
whether he died ? Yes, say you ; but the patient 
who recovers finds in the renewed joys of life 
compensation for his past sufferings ! Ah ! and 
the glorified soul of the departed, does that not 
find far greater compensation in the higher sphere 
to which it is removed ? Is God just to those who 
remain on earth, and unjust to all the other beings 
that people his universe, — unjust towards those 
whom he calls to himself with fatherly love, 
when their time on earth is completed ? In like 
manner as Christ, when dying on the cross, lifted 
up his voice and cried, "Father, into thy hands 
I commend my spirit! " so will I, on the receipt 
of intelligence of the dissolution of friends, or 
when standing by the death-bed of those I love, 
lift up my voice and cry, Father, into thy hands 
I commend their spirit ! Thou art their God, — 
as here on earth, so also beyond the grave ; thou 
wert their God before they knew thee ; thou 
didst love them before they loved thee. 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 243 

He who fears not death feels it not, nor does 
he experience the awe that takes possession of 
the living at the sight of it. Children who know 
naught of death, die quietly without anticipating 
it. To them, it is but the end of their illness. 
They may possibly die in cramps and convulsions ; 
but these are no more than a fearful play of the 
muscles, which, though painful for the bystanders 
to witness, is not felt by the dying child. For 
instance, what can be more distressing to behold 
than epileptic fits ? Yet it is well known that 
persons who labor under this disease do not suf- 
fer, and, indeed, are hardly conscious of being 
subject to the fits, though while in them they 
utter groans as if in pain, and their features are 
fearfully distorted. 

Only those that fear death feel it, or rather feel 
when it is drawing nigh. The uneasy conscience 
trembles at the thought of the judgment. The 
approach of death awakens in the heart the dark 
despair of a too tardy remorse. There is some- 
thing inexpressibly fearful in the thought of being 
unable — at the very moment when life and all 
its joys are about to fail us — to say, " Father, 
into thy hands I commend my spirit " ! 

Yet we should be mistaken were we always to 
attribute either the apparent nervous apprehen- 
sion, or the calm composure of the dying, to the 
character of the life they have led in "this world ; 
for experience teaches that the most lovable 



244 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

and innocent children frequently die under what 
seems great uneasiness ; while, on the contrary, 
the greatest sinners have breathed their last with 
unalterable outward composure. What we wit- 
ness when standing at the bedside of the dying 
is, as a general rule, merely the effects of the 
malady on the body and its vital powers. What 
is going on in the spirit of him who is about to 
depart, while apparently sunk in a state of stupor, 
who shall say ? Those who have seen ruthless 
criminals led out to die by the hand of the execu- 
tioner, in the foil vigor of life, will know that 
such persons frequently meet their death with 
great apparent composure. But is it possible to 
believe that this outward calm is the consequence 
of inward peace ? 

Even good and pious people are, in many cases, 
rendered uneasy at the thought of their dissolu- 
tion, merely because they allow their imagination 
too much scope, and endeavor to picture to them- 
selves what they will feel in their last moments. 
They shudder at the thought of having to ex- 
change all that is dear and familiar to them on 
earth for the unknown and unfamiliar. But this 
anxiety would soon vanish, were they sufficiently 
acquainted with the wisdom of God, as it is re- 
vealed throughout the entire system of nature. 
They would then see that what they look upon as 
unknown is in reality quite familiar to them, and 
that what they so much dread ought rather to 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 245 

awaken feelings of pleasure. They would know 
that the new life they are to enter is only another 
and more glorious gift of their Heavenly Father, 
than that which he bestows when he calls us into 
this earthly existence. Hast thou not full confi- 
dence in the providence of thy all-loving and 
all-seeing Father in heaven ? Why, then, dost 
thou tremble ? Does the child tremble at the 
thought of the Christmas gift it is to receive from 
its parents, though what this may be is quite un- 
known to it ? The better lot that God has pre- 
pared for us is like a kind and fatherly gift, to 
which we ought to look forward with pleasure 
and joyful trust. When a human being enters 
as an infant into this life, which he has never seen 
or felt ; when his loving mother presses him for 
the first time with a warm welcome to her bosom ; 
when the father bends joyfully and tenderly over 
the new-comer and blesses him, does the child 
shrink back in fear from the unknown and the 
unfamiliar ? How kindly, with how many tender 
caresses, is he not greeted by all ? How grad- 
ually he becomes acquainted with the new things 
that surround him ! Now picture to yourselves 
that man had, previously to his appearance on 
this earth, lived in another world and under far 
more perfect conditions ; do you conceive that 
even in that case he would find the things of this 
life so very strange ? And in the life to which 
death is the introduction, we may be assured, the 



246 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 

welcome we shall meet with will not be less kind 
and loving than that with which we were received 
here ; perhaps, indeed, the former will far surpass 
the latter. For in yon life preparations have 
already been made for our happiness ; there are 
dear ones there awaiting our coming. 

Why should I doubt this, and doubt it merely 
because it is not known to me ? Had not God 
made preparations for my reception on earth, and 
provision for my happiness here, before I was 
born ? Who thought of me before I came ? 
Who measured out my joys to me, before I had 
a heart to feel them ? Who meted out my suf- 
ferings, before I knew what tears were ? Was it 
not my eternal, all-loving Father? Well, and 
he who thought of me before I was, before I 
knew him, — will he forget me now that J am 9 
Will he forsake me now that I love him in return, 
and have learnt to call him Father ? Will he 
leave me unprovided for now that I worship him, 
and with wondering awe adore him in his crea- 
tion ? 

Ah, no ! Father in heaven, thou wilt not, thou 
canst not do this ! Thou canst not, thou wilt not 
abandon the spirits whom thou hast created, when 
they have but just attained the consciousness of 
thy existence and of their own ! Thou wert 
their God before they existed; thou art their 
God as long as they dwell in this world ; and 
thou wilt be their God when they enter into the 



OF THOSE WE LOVE. 247 

higher existence which thou hast prepared for 
them from the beginning of the world ! With 
rapture, with a presentiment of unutterable JC7, 
I think of the hereafter, where I shall find thee, 
my God, and where I shall again meet all the 
dear ones whom thou didst bestow on me here on 
earth ! Ah ! what a moment that will be, when 
I shall feel myself transferred to heaven ! What 
bliss to be reunited with all the loved ones, 
whom thou, O Father, hast bound to me by the 
ties of affection ! With lips tremulous with joy, 
I shall one day utter the prayer, " Father, into 
thy hands I commend my spirit.'' Amen. 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 



0, hope of immortality, 

Let all my soul be filled with thee, — 

Teach me the ways of holiness, 

And when I fail, sustain and bless. 
O, Godlike gift, by God designed, 
Thee do I ever bear in mind, — 

Why should sad thoughts my heart oppress "? 

And when to full perfection brought, 

Then shall I see and know aright 
God's mercy, passing human thought, 

Rejoicing, shall I bless the sight. 
From doubts which made me tremble here, 
The shadowing veil shall disappear, 

And all be glory and delight. 

(1 Tim. vi. 12.) 

ERHAPS there is not one of the many- 
sacred subjects of reflection presented 
to the mind by the religion of Jesus 
Christ, which so strongly rivets the 
attention as the doctrine and hope of the immor- 
tality of the soul. For the love of life, and the 
desire for its continuance, is deeply implanted in 
the human breast. However full of tribulation 
this earthly life may be, mortal man does not 
willingly yield it up. However loudly the 




THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. ^49 

pious hypocrite may proclaim this lovely world of 
God's to be a land of misery and a vale of tears, 
he does not the less desire to abide in it, and he 
recoils with a shudder from that death, which he 
so often extols as his deliverer from the wretch- 
edness of this life. Up to the moment when they 
breathe their last sigh the dying still hope to live ; 
this hope often accompanies the criminal to the 
very steps of the scaffold, and solaces the con- 
demned in his dark prison cell. 

It is this love of life that inspires all mortals 
with a secret horror of death, which at the same 
time fills them with faith in the continued exist- 
ence of their soul after the dissolution of the 
body. In this love, by which the wisdom of the 
Creator has bound us as with almost indissoluble 
ties to life here on earth, he has also revealed to 
our minds their sublime destination. All peoples, 
when once awakened from the stupor of mere 
animal life, embrace with ardor the idea of a life 
beyond the grave. All religions, even those of 
savage tribes, teach that the soul enters into a 
state of bliss, or appears before the judgment- 
seat, in a future life. But the Christian has a 
more confident hope than others. He has, in ad- 
dition to the revelation of God through human 
reason, the revelation of God through his Son 
Jesus Christ. In like manner as Jesus conquered 
death, so shall we also conquer death, and change 
the perishable for the imperishable. 
11* 



250 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

Even the most frivolous mind cannot laugh 
away the thought of eternity. Even the most 
lukewarm Christian, who lives in this world as 
though he were to dwell in it forever, cannot 
always escape from thoughts of the grave. Even 
the reprobate who, abandoned to his own passions, 
follies, and vices, exerts all his wits, and brings 
forth every possible argument, to disprove the 
existence of an avenging God in the universe, 
and to throw discredit on the belief in the immor- 
tality of that part of his own being that thinks 
and wills and works so wonderfully in the body, 
— even he is sometimes involuntarily, in the 
midst of his dissipation, compelled to think of 
God and eternity. The thought forces itself 
upon him as an indestructible and eternal truth. 
He thinks and shudders. " The devils also be- 
lieve and tremble ! " says St. James (ii. 19). 

There are three testimonies in favor of the 
truth that man was not created for this short life 
alone, and that he belongs not only to earth, but 
also to a higher existence, — the world of spirits, 
which no frivolity, no wit, no power of argument, 
can destroy. And these testimonies, which are 
found among all nations of the world, are : the 
universal belief in a God, the universal presence 
of a conscience, or an inward judge in man, and 
the universal faith in eternity. These intuitive 
ideas are indeed the educators and the preservers 
of the human race. 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 251 

In truth, what would the world be without 
these three great ideas ? Where would be the 
power capable of curbing and taming man, in the 
frenzy of passion the most destructive of animals, 
were these three great ideas to vanish from the 
world ? Picture to yourself the human race, 
with its wild, all-consuming desires, left to itself, 
without faith in God, without the feeling of right 
and wrong, and without the conception of a con- 
tinued existence after death. What safety would 
there be for life or property ? Would an oath be 
respected ? Would law have power to bind ? 
Would an army inspire fear ? Would innocence 
be held sacred ? • Would tears have power to 
move ? No ; all the horrors of hell would be 
perpetrated under the heavens. Violence, cun- 
ning, and cruelty would reign supreme. Assas- 
sination would precipitate ruler and subject alike 
into the grave. The earth would soon be con- 
verted into a depopulated waste, similar to what 
it was before it was trodden by the foot of man. 

If the thought of eternity can produce so 
powerful, so magical an effect, even on the 
savage, what influence must it not exercise over 
the Christian, who, having received the revela- 
tion of Jesus, and being admitted into his king- 
dom, has little to hope on earth, but everything 
to look forward to in eternity ? What must it be 
to the Christian who can say with Christ, My 
kingdom is not of this world, and not on this 



252 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

earth is my home, but in the eternal dwelling- 
place of God, in the high heavens, in my Father's 
house ? 

And yet (who can deny it ?) even in pious 
Christians the thought of death and of the state 
of the soul in the future life does not always 
awaken such feelings as might be expected. 
Sometimes it depresses the mind too much ; 
sometimes it gives rise to an exaggerated con- 
tempt for this earthly existence ; sometimes it 
degenerates into fruitless meditations upon, and 
inquiries into, the probable condition of the soul 
after death, and leads to all kinds of delusions ; 
sometimes it imbitters our best joys on earth. 

Such ought not to be the effects of the thought 
of eternity. In what manner, then, ought my 
mind to be occupied with the subject? What 
effect ought it to produce upon me ? 

To every Christian the thought of eternity 
should be as an intimate friend, whose presence 
is not irksome, however frequently he may visit 
him, and whose unexpected reappearance, after 
long absence, would cause no surprise. 

But if it is to be this, we must in reality first 
endeavor to make ourselves quite familiar with it. 
We must be intimately acquainted with it. We 
must know what we have to fear or to hope from 
it. Only an intimate friend is received with a 
smiling welcome, whether he come often or come 
seldom. 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 253 

It is the Christian's duty, therefore, to make 
the thought of the future life his constant com- 
panion, and never to repel it when it approaches. 
It will never be to him other than a reminder of 
the eternal, unalterable destination, to which each 
hour that passes, each step we take, draws us so 
much nearer. 

Besides, we find the thought so frequently in 
our path, that to evade it is almost impossible. 
A fresh grave-mound in the churchyard, or a 
withered flower; the news of a battle in which 
thousands have fallen, or of the illness of an 
acquaintance ; the walk we take to brace our ex- 
hausted system, or our nightly retiring to sleep ; 
the house in which we live, and in which others 
have died ; or the remembrance of parents, hus- 
band, or wife, children, sisters, and brothers, or 
friends who have gone before us, — all these must 
ever be leading to the thought of the mysterious 
future beyond the grave. 

Well, then, as the thought cannot remain a 
stranger to us, let us make a familiar friend of 
it ; let us endeavor to correct our ideas of eterni- 
ty ; let us endeavor clearly to define what it will 
be to us, and in what relation we stand to it. 

Not that we ought to allow ourselves to in- 
dulge in useless speculations as to the nature of 
the future life, and the exact conditions to which 
our souls will there be subject. It is not neces- 
sary to do this in order to become familiar with 



254 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

the thought of eternity. Such inquiries can only 
end in making the wise man feel the limits be- 
yond which humanity cannot reach, the bounds 
which his reason cannot overstep ; while the un- 
wise will be led by them into mental delusions, 
into groundless suppositions, and be encouraged 
in visionary tendencies, which may be dangerous 
to the peace of weak minds, and which, in all 
cases, must exercise an injurious influence on 
thought and action, and also on physical health. 
Millions of men have dwelt on the mysteries 
of the future life before thee, O mortal ! without 
succeeding in solving them. For the veil, which 
the hand of God has drawn before that future, 
is impenetrable. And no ponderings of thine 
will enable thee to lift it, until God calls thee. 
Desist, therefore, from senseless attempts to 
throw light upon the nature of the soul in eter- 
nity, upon its local habitation after leaving the 
body, upon its occupations in the other life. 
Heed not either the spoken or the written words 
of those who have woven for themselves a web 
of visionary delusions regarding these matters 
which are hidden from human ken; and who, 
in their foolish presumption, have sometimes even 
gone so far as to attempt to prove the correctness 
of their views from the Holy Scriptures. Alas ! 
how can they hope to penetrate the mysteries of 
eternal life, whose weak mental sight does not 
even suffice to comprehend the wonderful things 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 255 

of this world, to fathom the mysterious laws of 
creation, which they hehold in action before their 
eyes each day of their life ! How dare they 
deem themselves wiser than the All-wise, who 
has, not without good reason, enveloped the 
future in this beneficent darkness ! How dare 
they venture to measure their strength against 
the strength of the Lord, whose hand has drawn 
the curtain before the wonders of eternity ! 

To become familiar with the thought of eter- 
nity means, to remind ourselves as often as an 
opportunity occurs, that we are born into ever- 
lasting life ; that God's inexhaustible fatherly love 
is infinite, like the existence of our souls ; that the 
hand which has already bestowed on us here on 
earth so many joys and exquisite gratifications, 
will not be less generous of its gifts when we 
have rendered ourselves worthy and capable of 
still higher enjoyments ; that the mercy of the 
almighty and all-loving Creator, which has from 
the beginning of time ruled over the measureless 
universe, and which has also called our souls from 
nothingness into being, will continue so to rule 
through all eternity; that if we have firm and 
unwavering faith in Him, any fate that may be- 
fall us, and thus also the change in death, must be 
for our good, but that we can only feel secure of 
a happier lot beyond the hour of death when we 
have fitted ourselves for it; that the only way 
to make ourselves worthy of it is by growing 



256 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

in goodness during this life, according to the ex- 
ample of the Divine Jesus ; that as on earth our 
happiness increases with our growth in wisdom 
and virtue, so also will unutterable bliss be our 
reward in eternity; that by neglecting our souls 
in this life, and only satisfying those instincts and 
desires which belong to the body, we condemn 
ourselves to imperfection and to a grievous and 
terrible fate after death ; that he who neglects 
his soul here on earth, were he even to gain the 
whole world, will be the poorest in the world of 
spirits, where only spiritual treasures, not earthly 
glories, have any value. 

This is what the Holy Scriptures teach us. 
This is what Jesus, the Saviour, the Judge of the 
world, teaches, when he says, " And shall come 
forth : they that have done good unto the resur- 
rection of life ; and they that have done evil unto 
the resurrection of damnation." (St. John v. 29.) 
" Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stead- 
fast, immovable, always abounding in the work 
of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your 
labor is not in vain in the Lord." (1 Cor. xv. 
58.) 

If we join these considerations to the thought 
of eternity, it will never occur to us without re- 
calling the necessity of improving our minds and 
dispositions. Each time our thoughts dwell upon 
the solemn future will come the question : " But 
have I done anything to merit a more glorious 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 257 

existence on the other side of the grave ? Has 
my soul sanctified itself through Jesus, so that I 
ma j look forward joyfully to the lot that awaits 
me there ? " 

For to think of the eternal life hereafter, with- 
out at the same time determining to qualify our- 
selves for it, would be but self-delusion, dead faith. 
But when it stimulates us to goodness and noble 
action in this world, it is an angel that leads us on 
in the ways of Jesus, in the ways of the Lord; 
and as we progress in amendment and perfection, 
it will gradually become more and more to us a 
thought full of quiet satisfaction, of heavenly calm. 

It will then never awaken in us without calling 
forth also thoughts of the beloved souls with 
whom we held intercourse on earth, and who 
have gone before us. We shall then never think 
of eternity without a rapturous thrill at the re- 
membrance of some departed friend who died in 
youth, or of parents or children, or of a beloved 
spouse, or of sisters and brothers. Ah ! will the 
the highest, the infinite Love ; will God who is 
love, — God, who united our souls so intimately 
here on earth, — will he part us yonder ? Will 
he sever souls whom he has created for each 
other, will he separate them in heaven, " where 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; 
and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
pain " ? (Rev. xxi. 4.) 



258 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

The thought of eternity will never awaken in 
us without reminding us of our higher destination. 
We cannot meditate on our future existence with- 
out at the same time thinking of how fleeting and 
perishable is everything here below. We shall 
thus be led to contemplate with composure that 
which previously caused us poignant grief, and to 
feel more strongly than before that it is folly to 
give ourselves up to never-ending regret for things 
which were not given, but only lent to us. For 
all that we possess, earn, or enjoy on earth does 
not belong to us, but to the earth. We are only 
allowed temporary use thereof. Nothing but the 
increased perfection of the spirit, to reach which 
all that we have enjoyed on earth was lent us as 
a means, — nothing but this perfection, this in- 
nate nobility of the spirit, can save the spirit, be- 
cause, as part and parcel of its being, it can never 
be separated from it, and because it belongs not 
to the minute points in time and space which we 
call life and earth, but to eternity. 

But though the thought of eternity does and 
ought to awaken in us the consciousness of the 
nothingness of life, it ought not to render us indif- 
ferent to the beauties and attractions of our pres- 
ent existence. It ought not to fill us with melan- 
choly and sadness, or with contempt of the world ; 
but, on the contrary, to encourage us to a wise 
and cheerful enjoyment of the blessings that God 
in his goodness has bestowed upon us. Why, 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 259 

indeed, should we despise a life which we have re- 
ceived from the hand of a loving Creator ? Why 
should we contemn a world which God has 
created and adorned with countless wonders ? 
Would it not be very blameworthy if the child, 
impatient to become wise and learned, were to 
disdain the school in which alone knowledge could 
be acquired ? What inconsistency ! you exclaim. 
But we. fall into an equally striking inconsistency 
when we disdain or fear to enjoy the pleasures of 
this life, because of our expectations of still greater 
joys, which God will one day bestow. 

O man ! small, insignificant plant as thou art, 
put forth thy buds first, and develop thy leaves 
and branches, if thou wouldst in time stand forth 
a perfect tree. 

Nay, the thought of eternity does not forbid 
our enjoying this world and all the good that it 
brings, but is, on the contrary, calculated to en- 
courage such enjoyment. Instead of repelling us 
from this life, it ought to bind us closer to it. For 
here we are to prepare for the future ; — here 
on earth, amid happiness and unhappiness, amid 
flowers and thorns, is the school in which we are 
to be formed for eternity. How deplorable is the 
cowardice or the insanity of the self-murderer, 
who, troubled by earthly cares, with presumptu- 
ous hand bursts asunder the bonds which bind 
him to this life, in the hope that he will meet a 
happier lot in the other world ! Who appointed 



260 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 

his lot here below ? If he prepared it for himself 
by his own misdeeds, then how can he hope to be 
in the next existence a higher, better, more per- 
fect being than he was in this ? Or if God sent 
him misfortunes to try him, why does he with- 
draw from the guidance of his wise Creator and 
Father ? Does he think that his wilfulness, his 
pusillanimity, will work a change in the eternal 
counsels of the All- wise ? Does he think that he 
can escape from God and his divine guardian- 
ship? 

In full reliance on the guiding hand of his 
Heavenly Father, and with unalterable faith in 
the immortality of the spirit, as it has been re- 
vealed to all men, the Christian will endeavor 
to apply to the elevation and purification of his 
soul whatever may befall him here on earth, — 
whether he gain for himself friends, honors, 
riches, or meet with hatred, poverty, and shame. 
He will love this earth as the school in which he 
is preparing to take his place in a higher rank. 
He will contemplate without fear the termination 
of life's journey. 

" So when this corruptible shall have put on in 
corruption, and this mortal shall have put on im- 
mortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying 
that is written : Death is swallowed up in victory. 
O death ! where is thy sting ? O grave ! where 
is thy -victory ? But, thanks be to God, who giv- 
eth us the victory through our Lord Jesus ! " 



THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 261 

When once my spirit, freed from dust, 
Shall to my Saviour whom I trust, — 

To thee, my own Messiah, fly, 
When once, mother earth ! this shell, 
In which the immortal soul doth dwell, 

Within thy parent lap shall lie ; 

What, then, is mine ? What bliss unbounded ! 
With what bright world am I surrounded ? 

What am I ? say, what shall I be ? 
What streams of rapture through me flow. 
Is 't 1 1 are these my limbs that glow ? 

This Godlike splendor, is 't for me ? 
I am transformed, released from dust, — 

Whose throne is there 1 Who calls me now 1 
Ah! it is God, in whom \ trust, — 

my Messiah, it is thou ! 

O Lord, thy truth, it faileth never. 
For life renewed I thank thee ever. 

1 shall not to thy judgment come, — 
My foe subdued, in chains doth lie, — 
Death *s swallowed up in victory. 

And I, I rest not in the tomb. 
Hail, Lord ! All honor, might, are thine. 

Saviour ! from thee my life doth spring ! 
The angelic choir I haste to join, 

And loudest hallelujahs sing. 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 



First Meditation. 



GOING IN TO THE FATHER. 

A house of clay thou buildest me, 

Wherein my thoughts to treasure, 
And with thy grace, my God, and thee, 

To fill my faltering measure ; 
And as I better know thy ways, 
To exercise my heart in praise, 
And by thy Spirit led, to prove 
A deeper, and yet deeper love. 

Never to die, — ne'er to die ! 
My heart shall scorn and doubt defy 
To rob it of its glorious faith 
In a new life, surviving death. 
Say I should die, — unto thy side 
Thou, God, wilt be my faithful guide ; 
My soul triumphant sounds the strain, — 
Death is not loss, but endless gain. 

(John xiv. 28.) 



RDINARY people are loath to think 

of death, and jet there are so many 

things that remind them of it ! The y 

near deceased persons spoken of, or 

meet, a funeral procession, or learn that an ac- 




INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 263 

quaintance has been called away from this world, 
or their thoughts revert to persons they have 
loved, whose ashes are reposing in the earth ; and 
in each case there is that which must remind 
them that no exception to the general laws of 
nature can be made in their favor. The man 
who never thinks of the hour of death without 
a shudder, sleeps away as gently as he who has 
been longing for dissolution. And yet ordinary 
people are loath to think of death and the grave. 
This is very natural. Even were the innate love 
of life not so intense as it is in every mortal, it 
would not be surprising that he should recoil from 
thoughts of death, as they are opposed to every- 
thing that is most delightful in life. Death puts 
an end to our hopes, destroys our favorite plans 
and projects, cuts us off from our most cherished 
habits, and with unbending and irresistible power 
separates us from parents, children, and friends. 
Alas ! it has already torn from us many of life's 
best jewels. 

" And if this be so, why should we, by frequent 
thoughts of death and the grave, mar the few 
pleasures we have in life ? Let us enjoy while 
we can, without foolishly imbittering our own 
lot." 

Thus say many. Nay, there are many who 
reproach the Christian religion with being gloomy 
and austere, because it is ever reminding its fol- 
lowers of the nothingness of life, and of death 
and judgment. 



264 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

But, in truth, he who cannot think cheerfully 
of death has probably never thought cheerfully 
and rationally of life. To those to whom death 
is a mysterious, and therefore repugnant image, 
life itself can be little more than a confused rid- 
dle ; for they cannot, as yet, have any clear 
conception of the purpose of their existence. 
The question as to our being or not being ra- 
tional creatures does not so much depend upon 
what it is pleasant to us to think, as upon what 
we are by our nature compelled to think. But it 
is religion that solves the enigma of life, and 
thereby gives us the key to the mystery of death. 
So far is true Christianity from depressing the 
spirits and rendering men morose, that, on the 
contrary, by the views of death which it incul- 
cates it elevates its wise followers above every 
grief, and above every fear, and enables them to 
enjoy the manifold pleasures of life with imper- 
turbable composure, whether their last hour be 
nigh at hand or far off. If the religion of Jesus 
in reality do this, what is there to find fault with ? 
Why should we avoid thoughts which will, in 
spite of all our endeavors, force themselves upon 
us ? There is not a human being who has not 
sustained some loss in the course of his life ; how 
will he avoid being reminded of this ? It is life 
itself, it is our hearts, that recall to us our painful 
losses ; but it is religion that consoles us, and rec- 
onciles us to them, by the exalted views which it 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 265 

imparts of the divine universe and the divine 
mode of action. 

Which of your dear ones do you already count 
among the dead ? Perhaps a father, who was 
your guardian angel on earth? Perhaps a 
mother, who loved you above all others? Per- 
haps a brother, who walked by your side full of 
youthful hopes ? Perhaps a sister, for whom you 
felt as if she were your second self? Or if you 
be father or mother, poor mourners, perhaps it is 
a child, the sweetest blossom and hope of your 
lives ? Or is it a noble-minded husband, or a 
gentle, faithful, loving wife ? Which of these 
cherished ones is it that you count among the 
departed ? Whichever it may be, is the memory 
of this lost one not dear to you, since you shud- 
der at the thought of death when it steals upon 
you in tranquil hours ? Your heart bled at your 
painful loss, and the wound is not yet healed. 
Alas ! there are wounds that never heal in this 
life. It is a mistake to think that time cures all 
wounds. But for those that it cannot cure, the 
religion of Jesus Christ has a soothing balm. 

It is possible that, in some quiet hour of enjoy- 
ment, the thought of death and corruption may 
suddenly fill you with a sensation of horror, and 
that every fibre of your body may, as it were, 
revolt against dissolution. Nay, so overwhelmed 
may you be by the terrible thought, that it may 
seem to you better that you should never have 
12 



266 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

received life, than to be obliged to yield it up 
again. But these painful feelings are not caused 
by the melancholy views inspired by religion, but 
by your own innate love of life. Christianity, on 
the contrary, chases away all fear of death, by 
allowing us to cast a glance into a future beyond 
the grave, where life, activity, and joy prevail, as 
they do here. 

Do you think that the Saviour, the Light of the 
world, came in vam to reassure us as to our im- 
mortality, and our ultimate destiny ? And how 
does he describe death ? He who had more ter- 
rible experience of its horrors than any mortal, 
doomed as he was to die in the full prime of his 
strength and years, in the possession of unimpaired 
health, with the consciousness of spotless inno- 
cence, and to die the death of a criminal? He 
called it going in to the Father ! 

And with him every Christian says, with truth, 
to die is to go in to the Father, for Jesus' Father 
is also our Father. The Creator of the Seraphim, 
as of the lowliest zoophyte, is also our Creator. 

What a cheerful conception is not that of our 
departure from this earth as a going in to the 
Father ! 

We ought at all times to speak of our own and 
our friends' demise in these terms ; then death, 
which the excited imagination of timid men has 
presented to us under the form of a hideous skele- 
ton, would appear as a friendly spirit, come to 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 267 

help us across the boundaries of life, and to usher 
us into the Father's presence. In reality, many 
of the terrors with which death is invested, and 
of the false notions concerning it which prevail, 
originate in the erroneous and revolting designa- 
tions which have been given to it. Thus some- 
times it is called decay and corruption ; but we do 
not decay, nor are we given up to corruption. 
At other times, to die is to leave the world ; but 
we never leave the world, because this is in itself 
impossible. At other times, again, death is termed 
destruction ; but we cannot be destroyed. No ; 
to die is to go in to the Father ; our souls merely 
cast off their unsuitable garments to clothe them- 
selves in worthier raiment. 

The shudder caused by the images in which we 
speak of death is owing to their being borrowed 
from the condition of the soulless body, and their 
being consequently false. Every other false con- 
ception is in like manner repugnant to us, because 
of its being at variance with the laws of reason, 
while imagination endeavors in vain to make that 
which is unreasonable conceivable. 

The condition of the corpse in the grave is not 
our condition, but merely that of the covering 
which we have cast off. When we cut our hair 
with a pair of scissors, is that which is taken off, 
and which is thrown away, part of ourselves ? 
Nay, how little does this separation affect us ! 
When the warrior loses a limb in battle, and sees 



268 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

it consigned to the earth, does he feel that the 
condition of this limb forms part of his own state ? 
Nay, the limb decays, but he feels it not. He 
still exists, and is conscious of being something 
quite distinct from that which is capable of cor- 
ruption. 

And what is our earthly coil to us ? It is but 
the worn-oat or damaged raiment of the immortal 
spirit. Why do we not shudder every day of our 
lives at the decay of our bodies, for, in truth, they 
do decay daily? According to the observations 
of profound thinkers and physicians, the body of 
a man undergoes a total change several times in 
the course of a moderately long life, so that as 
youths and maidens we no longer bear the same 
body, the same flesh and blood, as in childhood; 
and in old age again, the body is almost entirely 
a different one from that possessed in manhood. 
But we are not aware of these transformations, 
because they take place through means of imper- 
ceptible, natural processes. Is it, then, reasonable 
to conclude that the final transformation, whereby 
we are entirely separated from the coarse earthly 
covering that invests us here, will be perceptible 
to ourselves ? Has any one ever been able to 
observe, as regards himself, the gentle merging of 
the waking state into sleep ? How many persons 
have not died with such full consciousness that 
death was approaching, that they have seemed 
narrowly to observe themselves during the won- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 9Qd 

derful transition. There are even instances of 
their having been able to prognosticate — we 
know not by what means — the precise moment 
of their dissolution, and their prognostications 
have been pretty exactly borne out by the event. 
But were any of these persons, who so calmly 
departed, ever known to show signs of pain or 
aversion while the gradual withdrawal of the soul 
from the body was taking place ? Indeed, even 
those who have departed amid sufferings caused 
by the disturbance of the inward functions of the 
body, ceased to experience pain when the sweet 
moment of the final disseverance drew nigh. 

Away, then, with all repugnant images of death, 
borrowed from the empty, cast-off garment of the 
soul, which is resolved again into dust and ashes. 
This garment is not our real self. Our real self is 
immortal. All nature, as well as the revelations 
which we have received through Jesus, whom 
the Father sent, and who returned to the Father, 
teaches us this. Without this faith, — which is, 
indeed, more than faith, for it is a beautiful and 
deep-seated sentiment of the soul, a law of the 
spirit, — God would not be God, the world would 
be no world, reason would not be reason, and all 
our thinking and planning would be but the idle 
dreams of madness. 

Before the early inhabitants of the world — 
then so much nearer the first days of creation 
than now — knew how to build cities, to manu- 



270 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

facture weapons, and to weave clothes for them- 
selves, they were already familiar with the idea 
of the existence of a supreme, almighty, and be- 
neficent Being, and had the consciousness of their 
own immortality. And thousands and thousands 
of years will still pass over this terrestrial globe ; 
every spot on its surface will be changed ; where 
now are deserts, mighty cities may rise in their 
pride ; and cities, in which kings and emperors 
are now enthroned in pomp and splendor, may be 
converted into deserts, in which hardly a ruin 
survives to tell of what has been. But the con- 
sciousness of their own immortality, and of the 
existence of God, is as little likely to change in 
the generations of men, as the laws of nature, by 
which the universe is sustained, are likely to be 
destroyed. If there have at any time been mor- 
tals who have doubted, or who have even denied, 
the immortality of their own souls, such persons 
have always been looked upon as diseased in 
mind, or as making a false use of their mental 
powers by giving themselves up to insane spec- 
ulations. 

Some philosophers have attempted to demon- 
strate the inextinguishable belief of man in the 
continuance of his own existence, by words and 
arguments, in the same manner as self-created 
conceptions and calculations are demonstrated. 
But immortality is not a self-created conception, 
an idea invented by man, as it were, but a bloom- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 271 

ing forth, or a development of the thinking being ; 
and we can as little prove it in words, as we can 
prove that we have the consciousness of our pres- 
ent existence. It is enough that we are, and that 
we have the consciousness of our being. Through 
this consciousness alone is every other idea ren- 
dered possible. 

But, in reality, men are much less anxious to 
discover so-called proofs of their immortality, 
(which are, after all, superfluous because of 
their intuitive belief in it,) than they are to as- 
certain of what nature will be the existence of the 
spirit hereafter ; what will be its fate and its feel- 
ings after the separation from the body; what 
may be that which we call eternity. 

Human curiosity loves to hover round the mys- 
teries of the future state of the soul, and many 
dreamy visions have been indulged in concerning 
life hereafter. This curiosity is natural and par- 
donable. It has its source in our innate love of 
life, and our consciousness of immortality. But 
we ought never to forget, that as human crea- 
tures, who have but five very imperfect senses, 
through means of which we can acquire knowl- 
edge of the universe, we occupy as yet a very 
low place in the infinite scale of beings ; and that, 
therefore, it is as impossible for us to form a con- 
ception of what our spirit will be, and will know, 
when placed amid totally different circumstances, 
as it is for a man born blind to conceive what he 



272 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

would be, and would see, were a new sense — 
i. e. sight — to be vouchsafed to him, and all the 
influences of the universe were in consequence 
to rush in upon him through a hitherto unknown 
portal of the mind. We must not forget that 
just as impossible as it is for the human spirit, 
here on earth, to know itself and its essence, 
just as impossible is it that it should be able 
to know what, according to the nature of its 
essence, it will be when the dark veil is raised 
which covered it here on earth in the form of 
a body. 

We have received revelations through Jesus, 
whom God sent to the human race, and these 
revelations are expressed in terms adapted to 
the powers of comprehension possessed by man. 
Without being a disembodied spirit already dwell- 
ing in eternity, it is impossible to form correct 
conceptions of that which lies beyond the hour 
of transformation. Jesus, however, spoke of 
death as a going in to the Father, a union with the 
Deity. He gave us the assurance of meeting 
again in eternity. "" He promised to the more per- 
fect spirits unutterable bliss, and to sinners stern 
and just retribution. 

Ah ! this must suffice for us ; it is enough to 
know God's omnipotence and almighty love on 
earth, and in this to feel full assurance as to the 
future, and even heavenly rapture.. For this love, 
so almighty already here on earth, and so clearly 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 273 

manifested eacli day that passes over us ; this love 
revealed to us by Jesus, and also by nature, will 
it cease when the breath and the blood in our 
bodies cease their action ? Would that be a love 
worthy of the Eternal Being, the Universal Fa- 
ther, towards his creatures, which should be dis- 
continued after the lapse of a few brief moments ? 
No ; God, whom I am forced to conceive as In- 
finite Perfection, whom I worship as such in the 
smallest as in the greatest of his creations, — God 
is as undeniably an eternal, loving, watchful Fa- 
ther, ever bestowing happiness on his children, as 
he is in himself eternal, and as I am a creation 
of his love ; and in our Father's house there are 
many mansions. 

But to what he has called me, whither he will 
one day transport me, what I shall then be, — 
that I shall never fathom here on earth. But in 
like manner as we perceive (I can hardly say un- 
derstand) here on earth already the majesty of 
the loving and almighty One in his wonderful 
works, so also we can form a vague conception 
of the future in the present. In the universe, as 
we perceive it now, we see a reflection of the 
glory of which we shall once be partakers. In 
time, we find indications of eternity. The more 
we study the creations of the Father of the uni- 
verse as they appear to us on this side the grave, 
the greater number of signs of eternity do we 
discover, the greater number of fore shado wings 

12* B 



274 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

of what the creations of the Lord after death 
may be. 

He who knows God can feel no alarm at the 
thought of the hour of departure from this earth- 
ly existence. And the more we convince oar- 
selves, through the study of his works, of the 
wisdom, the power, and the love of the Father, 
— how imperishable, how conformable to their 
end, how perfectly organized, are all his crea- 
tions, — the more inwardly assured we shall feel 
that his unalterable wisdom, power, and love, dif- 
fused throughout the immeasurable universe, will 
at all times and in all places encompass our spirits, 
and that wherever they be, they will be of his 
blessed kingdom. 

He who knows the world, the inimitable, eter- 
nal world, does not feel alarm at the departure 
from this earth, which is but as a grain of sand 
when compared to the infinite universe. But he 
has but a very feeble conception of the greatness 
of God who believes this earth which we inhabit 
to be the centre of his glorious creation, round 
which revolve all the suns and the planets of the 
universe. Alas ! the observations of astronomers 
make it more than probable, that we and our 
earth, far from being in the centre of the uni- 
verse, are placed in the outer circle of innumera- 
ble world-systems ; and that hence it is, that 
whereas the rest of creation appears to us in all 
its sublime regularity and order, the starry heav- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 275 

ens, on the contrary, present to our eyes an ap- 
pearance of confusion, — the innumerable worlds, 
that beam upon us as distant stars, being thinly 
scattered over the expanse in one direction, and 
in another densely crowded together. If the 
star which we inhabit occupied a more elevated 
or a more depressed position in the choir of glo- 
rious spheres, the spectacle presented by the 
star-bespangled heavens would probably exhibit to 
our eyes the same wonderful regularity and order 
that strike us in the rest of creation. Thus, to 
a person placed in an unfavorable position on the 
outside of a regularly planted grove, the trees 
may seem placed without any attention to order 
or system, and may appear to him to form a con- 
fused labyrinth ; whereas, if placed in the centre, 
or any other favorable point of observation, he 
will instantly perceive the beautiful regularity of 
the plantations. 

He who has any knowledge of the universe, 
knows that in the great totality of things there 
is not an atom that does not endure forever, — 
that the whole is but a wide-spread realm of 
the most manifold forces. These forces endure, 
though the phenomena under which they pre- 
sent themselves change. The human spirit is a 
force hi this sense. Its effects, i. e. its thoughts, 
its wishes, its utterances, change and are perish- 
able ; but the spirit itself does not perish with the 
words it utters. Light is not diminished by the 



276 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

rays emitted by it. It is said that flowers are 
evanescent, and they are so, because they are but 
phenomena of eternally present original forces. 
But though the flowers vanish, the forces, which 
represent their elementary principle, do not cease 
to exist in the universe. 

And there is one great all-pervading law which 
I recognize in the universe of God. It is this : 
Everything is resolved into elements similar to itself. 
Water sends up vapors which gather into clouds 
in the skies : and these fall ao-ain as dew and 
rain, and again form bodies of water. Flowers, 
animals, the human body, all these having sprung 
from the earth, and having been nourished with 
earthlv substances, in time return to earth. 

Now, just as the unconscious forces or sub- 
stances, after going through a variety of combi- 
nations, return to their original families, so will 
the self-conscious forces, the rational beings, the 
spirits who conceive God, return again to their 
original spiritual family. According to the all- 
pervading law of God in nature, my body will 
in death return to earth, but my spirit will soar 
up to its original home. Is not this universal law 
of nature a sign from eternity ? Have I under- 
stood it correctly? Have I understood rightly 
what thou didst mean, O Jesus, my Divine En- 
lightener, when speaking to thy beloved disciples 
of thy approaching death, and endeavoring to 
prepare them for the heavy trial, thou saidst : 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 277 

" If ye loved me, ye would rejoice that I have 
said I go to the Father ; for the Father is greater 
than I!" 

O, when my time comes, and the angel of 
peace from the better world, whom we call death, 
kisses me and bears me away from earth, then do 
not weep, O my beloved ones ! for I also shall 
then have gone in to my Father ! Weep not 
for my cast-off earthly coil, for I also shall have 
rejoined my original family in my true home, 
in the beautiful world of blessed, self-conscious 
spirits. I shall have gone home to the beloved 
ones, the eternally beloved, the never-forgotten 
ones, whom I had lost here below, and for whom 
I so often pined. Weep not, for ye have no 
reason to weep, as little as I had to grieve for 
those who went in to glory before me. Yonder 
are all those to whom my heart cleaved, the cost- 
liest jewels of my life ; yonder are those to whom 
the Father bound me by ties of unalterable love ; 
yonder is Jesus, and yonder is God, to whom I 
come through Jesus ! Weep not ! to you also 
will come the happy moment when you shall go 
in to the Father ! Round the lips of your corpse 
also will hover, to the consolation of those you 
leave behind, the smile of joyful trust with which 
you have hastened into the better world! Not 
here, but yonder, is our home, our true life ! 
Blessed are you and I, for there is no death, only 
a going in to the Father ! 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Second Meditation. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Father, my heart exults itself in this : 

That thou hast not created me for naught ! 

Such happiness is mine, — with so much bliss 
Even this transient dream of life is fraught, — 

How little is it that mine eyes can see 

Here, my God ! or understand of thee, 

Yet e'en that little is great joy to me 

My life may vanish from this earthly sphere 
More swiftly than an idle dream of night ; 

I know I am immortal, and that there 

Mine eyes shall ope more clearly to the light. 

Thee shall I see, my Father, as thou art ; 

And there my joy, which now is but in part, 

Endless and perfected, shall fill my heart. 

(Matthew xxii. 29, 30.) 

HE consciousness of the immortality 
of the soul dates from the beginning 
of the human race. Therefore this 
conviction is found to exist even 
among the most savage tribes in the most distant 
countries, whither no ray of revealed religion, or 
of Western or Eastern enlightenment, has ever 




INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 279 

penetrated. Thus, from the beginning of crea- 
tion, there has been but one voice, one hope, one 
aspiration, in regard to eternity. And it was 
the Deity himself who, in creating self-conscious 
spirits, implanted in them this intuitive faith. 
Now the infinite perfection of God cannot im- 
part delusions. And why should it impart delu- 
sions, when it holds in its hand the unbounded 
realm of realities ? 

But though perfect agreement exist throughout 
the human race as to the belief that the higher, 
self-conscious power that animates the body does 
not cease to exist when the animal or corporeal 
life becomes extinct, the notions formed by the 
nations of the world as to the nature of the future 
life vary much. For these notions naturally dif- 
fer according to the degree of mental develop- 
ment, and the amount of experience and of knowl- 
edge of God's works possessed by men at various 
periods and in different parts of the globe. Thus, 
for instance, in early times, before voyages round 
the world and scientific observation had proved 
that our earth is a globe, floating freely in space, 
and revolving daily on its own axis, and yearly 
round the sun, it was believed that the dwelling- 
place of the condemned souls was situated under 
the earth, and that there they were tortured by 
means of the flames which were sometimes seen 
to issue from volcanoes. In the present day 
every child in our schools knows that our earth 



280 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

is surrounded on all sides by the heavens, and that 
it is only one of the smaller bodies which move in 
regular orbits through infinite space. Before men 
were enabled by means of the telescope to deter- 
mine the magnitudes, distances, and orbits of the 
stars nearest to our globe, all the celestial lights 
were believed to be equally distant from us, and 
beyond these were located the abodes of the 
blessed, where they were supposed to revel in 
joys and occupations as sensual as those on earth. 
In the present day, every child at school also 
knows that each star is a world, and that the 
universe is an infinity of worlds. 

Every people and every religious sect have 
thus had notions of their own as to the abodes of 
the blessed and of the lost spirits, just as at all 
times the child and the sage entertain very dif- 
ferent views of one and the same object. 

When Jesus Christ first appeared among the 
JeAvish people and began to teach, he found the 
professors of the Mosaic religion divided into 
several sects. For instance, the Essenes, who led 
a very strict and secluded life, and ascribed the 
greatest importance to pious actions and absti- 
nence from all sensual gratifications ; the Phari- 
sees, who, on the contrary, placed great value on 
outward religious ceremonies, and exacted the 
most rigid observance of the doctrines and rules 
laid down by Moses, or handed down by tradition, 
and who were held in highest estimation among the 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 281 

people ; and the Sadducees, who rejected all oral 
tradition, and denied many of the doctrines taught 
by the Pharisees, among others, that of the res- 
urrection of the dead. One day, when convers- 
ing with Jesus, the Sadducees, either with a view 
to satisfy their own doubts, or in the hope of con- 
founding him, supposed certain earthly and social 
relations to be carried over into the future life, 
and then put questions regarding them, and ex- 
pressed the misgivings of their minds on the sub- 
ject. If a woman marry seven men in this life, 
whose wife shall she be in eternity? asked they. 
Jesus answered and said unto them, " Ye do err, 
not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of 
God. For in the resurrection they neither mar- 
ry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the an- 
gels of God in heaven." (Matt. xxii. 29, 30.) 

Similar to these doubts of the Sadducees are 
the strange reasons which people deduce from 
e very-day life, and with which they disturb their 
own minds in regard to the condition of the soul 
after death. The hand, which can feel, but can- 
not hear, might be inclined to deny the rolling of 
the thunder, because it could not form a concep- 
tion of it ; yet the ear hears the thunder, and 
knows that it exists. 

Thus many persons ask, Shall we retain con- 
sciousness and memory when we change our 
body? For if not, though our spirit may con- 
tinue to exist, this continued existence, without 



282 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

consciousness or memory of the past, will be tan- 
tamount to a life as new as if it were then for the 
first time introduced into the world, and death 
must in consequence be looked upon as a kind of 
annihilation. 

These doubts, like those of the Sadducees, arise 
out of the circumstances and events of this earthly 
life. Comparison is made between the state of 
the soul after death and its condition during sleep 
or syncope, when it is unconscious of, or does 
not remember, what has been done to the body. 
And this is sufficient to cause uneasiness. 

O ye of little faith, let me repeat to you Jesus' 
words, " Ye do. err, not knowing the Scriptures, 
nor the power of God" ! 

Can we, with any show of reason, make com- 
parisons between things quite dissimilar, or even 
diametrically opposed to each other ? Or be- 
tween things, one of which we only know par- 
tially, and the other of which we know not at all ? 
Between the spirit still held in earthly bonds, and 
the self-dependent spirit emancipated from these ? 
How the spirit acts on the body we know only in 
part ; how it will appear when in the enjoyment 
of full freedom, and unfettered by the dust which 
now clings to it, we know not at all. 

Sleep and syncope are therefore poor compari- 
sons as regards the condition of the soul after its 
separation from the body. It is true we know 
nothing of what happens to us during sleep or 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 283 

syncope, and we remember naught of what has 
taken place. This is not, however, owing to the 
spirit having ceased to exist during the interval, 
but to the senses having become incapable of re- 
ceiving outward impressions, and of providing for 
the thinking power. When we close our eyes, we 
do not see, but the spirit nevertheless continues 
its inward life and activity. When sleep or syn- 
cope close all the senses, so that no impressions 
can be conveyed through them, the spirit is not the 
less alive and active, although it knows naught of 
what is going on without, in the world of sense. 
What surprising and wonderful evidence of this is 
not afforded by so-called sleep-walkers ! Or has 
it not happened to all of us, at one time or an- 
other, to awaken out of a deep sleep without hav- 
ing any recollection whatsoever of having dreamt, 
(although our souls must have been active during 
the interval,) because the lively impressions re- 
ceived from without on awaking have thrown 
back the images of the dream into the shade, until 
suddenly they are recalled to our mind, and we 
become convinced that we have had ideas even in 
sleep ? 

Thus the soul of the dying man likewise contin- 
ues to live and to be active ; but as his senses are 
gradually closing, he also becomes unconscious of 
what is going on in the outer world. The spirit 
of the dying man does not perceive death, because 
its own life continues as before. It knows naught 



284 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

of the bed of death, of the sorrowing relatives 
who stand around it, for impressions from the 
outer world no longer come to it through the ex- 
tinguished senses. But when the condition be- 
gins, in winch, separated from the dust, from flesh 
and blood and nerves, it lives in its self-depend- 
ent purity, — then all points of comparison fail us. 
The force continues its activity, conscious of its 
being, and God indicates to it the new path it 
has to follow. The past and the present must 
be one to the glorified soul, — for it saw not 
death, it remained as before, a self-conscious 
power. It enters into new combinations. It 
goes in to the Father. Its lot is, as the re- 
vealed word tells us, — Glorification. 

" Ye know not the power of God," said Jesus 
to the sceptical Sadducees. What mortal, indeed, 
knows the majesty, the boundless nature of this 
power of God, which is everywhere present in 
the infinite universe ? But so much do we know, 
that whatever God has ordained in his kingdom is 
sublime, magnificent, wonderful, bliss-inspiring, 
and wise, — in that realm there is nothing petty, 
nothing defective, nothing superfluous, nothing 
ignoble ! And surely the entrance of the soul 
into the state of original purity, and emancipation 
from the fetters of earth, will not be less solemn 
than is, here below even, every impression re- 
ceived of the glory of the Father of the universe. 

The emancipation of the soul from its frail 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 285 

earthly shell is the triumph of the spiritual power 
over the dead forces of nature. No fine-spun 
arguments and interpretations will help us here : 
before the power of God our boldest fancies fail, 
and the most extensive knowledge seeks in vain 
the limits of his infinite might. Any picture we 
may form to ourselves of the state of the eman- 
cipated and glorified soul cannot be otherwise 
than mean, foolish, derogatory, for it must be 
borrowed from things that are as little compar- 
able to the glory of the heavens as a drop of dew 
is to the wondrous ocean. 

Ye know not the power of God ; ye know not 
what career it has opened to the emancipated 
soul ; ye know not in what new raiment this soul 
may possibly be veiled when it hastens towards 
him, towards the Father ; ye know not what new 
views of the universe may burst upon it at the 
moment of the great change in its condition. In 
like manner as a world inhabited exclusively by 
persons born blind, would have no language to 
express the varied beauties of color and form, the 
brightness of the heavens, or the blue tints of 
distance, so do we lack the faculty to comprehend, 
and the means to describe, the phenomena of the 
future life. Indeed, our language and imagery 
in a great measure contribute to obscure that 
which might be clear to us even here on earth, 
and give us confused notions of that which is in 
itself perfectly simple. Thus the expressions 



286 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

"eternity," and "beyond the grave," are mis- 
understood by many. People frequently picture 
to themselves, in connection with these terms, 
something quite separate from our time, and ex- 
isting entirely by itself; something that is, as it 
were, to come. But eternity does not only belong 
to the future, it is already here. We are all liv- 
ing in eternity, for we live in God, and God is 
eternal. The short dream of our terrestrial life, 
this short section of eternal being, we call time. 
Time is, however, comprised in eternity, just as 
our globe is comprised in the infinite heavens. 
Earth and heaven, time and eternity, are one. 
We are already living in our Father's house here 
on earth ; but we have not reached the higher 
grades of perfection, and are not yet there where 
the glory of God can appear to us in full efful- 
gence. Thither we must be conducted by the 
angel of the better world, whom we call death. 

We live, but our beloved ones who have died 
also live ; we stand weeping on this globe floating 
in infinite space, but our glorified dear ones are, 
like ourselves, in God's world ; we are here, — 
but they are perhaps in an infinitely more beauti- 
ful world ; we are limited by our bodies, — they 
probably enjoy greater freedom and bliss. Now 
what is it to die ? It is generally said to be a 
passing into eternity; but here already we are 
dwelling in eternity. It is a transition from the 
finite earthly relations into a higher, more blissful, 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 287 

to us incomprehensible, state ; it is a change into 
a new mansion of the Father of all ; it is the ex- 
change from a place in a cradle into a place on 
the bosom of the Father. How differently does 
not death now appear to us ! It is not annihila- 
tion, but completion ; not cessation, but continua- 
tion. The loved ones whose loss I lament are 
still in existence ; they are living with me at this 
very time ; they are, like myself, dwelling in the 
great paternal mansion of God ; they still belong 
to me as I to them. We are not separated. No 
time lies between us ; for I, like they, dwell in 
eternity, rest in the arms of God. As they are 
ever in my thoughts, so, perhaps, am I in theirs. 
As I mourn for their loss, perhaps they rejoice 
in anticipation of our reunion. What to me is 
still dark, they see clearly. Why do I grieve 
because I can no longer enjoy their society ? 
During their lifetime I was not discontented be- 
cause I could not always have them around me. 
If a journey took them from me, I was not there- 
fore unhappy. And why is it different now ? 
They have gone on a journey. Whether they 
are living on earth in a far distant city, or in some 
higher world in the infinite universe of God, 
what difference is there ? Are we not still in the 
same house of the Father, like loving brothers 
who inhabit separate rooms ? Have we therefore 
ceased to be brothers ? 

Ah, let us not weep for the dead ; their blessed 



288 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

spirits can experience no pain. Perhaps they, 
being more exalted, more perfect than we, and 
possessing a clearer knowledge of the fatherly 
love of God, only feel a kind of tender compas- 
sion for our ignorance. Perhaps they were un- 
willing to die, but were torn from our arms against 
their desire. God willed it, and the change took 
place. In their glorified state, they bless the 
Fatherly Hand that guided them into the higher 
world, and the love which knew better than they 
did what was conducive to their happiness. Per- 
haps the past seems to them as a dream, the 
recollection of which was hardly worth retaining. 
The soul, the self-conscious element in the human 
body, may possibly, when parting from the uncon- 
scious earthly elements of that body, retain a 
remembrance of the past. We know too little 
of the nature of the spirit to deny this, but per- 
haps the recollections of its earthly existence are 
its most insignificant possessions. Here, on earth 
even, the present is of far more importance to us 
than our recollections of the past. Much of what 
we have experienced seems to us hardly worthy 
of a place in the memory, and we forget it. 
Many of our experiences, indeed, we would be 
glad to obliterate from our minds. The present 
moment is always the one most fraught with 
enjoyment, yet we are ever striving towards the 
future. Can we suppose it to be otherwise with 
the blessed spirits ? Perhaps the memory of their 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 289 

former imperfect state would be humiliating and 
painful to them amid the lustre of their more 
perfect condition. If we, who are living at this 
moment upon the earth, had existed previously 
somewhere in the great universe, but in a very 
inferior condition, suppose in that of an animal ; 
would not the memory of this our animal condi- 
tion be humiliating and repugnant to us after 
having attained the status of human beings ? 
Would we regret having lost all knowledge of 
our former degraded state ? And may not the 
condition of the higher beings be, in comparison 
to that of man, what ours is in comparison to that 
of the animals ? One remembrance, however, 
there is, which remains dear to us mortals even 
at the most advanced age, — that is, the remem- 
brance of friends and persons to whom we have 
been devotedly attached. The old man still recol- 
lects with delight the companion of his youth, 
the friend with whom he passed many a happy 
hour. He may forget everything else, but objects 
of his affection he does not forget. 

Love is one of the attributes which in some 
degree assimilate mortals to the more perfect be- 
ings ; and this attribute can never be lost, for it 
belongs to the nature of the spirit. God also 
loves, but in a far higher sense than we. The 
entire creation bears witness to this. It is true 
that the sexual instinct and habit seem to engen- 
der some feeling like love in animals also ; but 

13 s 



290 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

in them it is but transitory, — it is a shadow that 
deludes us. But God, who loves infinitely more 
deeply and more purely than man, — God, who 
has diffused the sentiment of love throughout 
creation, from its highest degree of perfection 
down to its almost imperceptible appearance in 
the mutual attractions of the plants, — God who, 
through love, has bound his creatures to each 
other and to himself, — would he destroy this 
love, this divine power in the glorified soul, at 
the very moment that he called it into a more 
perfect existence ? No ; that which is Divine is 
eternal! Imperfect man cannot be more perfect 
than the higher spirits who stand nearer to the 
Father than we ; and though we mortals may lose 
the recollection of many things, our love for the 
objects of our affection we carry with us to the 
grave. In like manner, though a thousand mem- 
ories may be lost with the mouldering dust of the 
body, the memory of God, the memory of the 
creatures of God whom we love, must accompany 
the soul into the blessed regions. God did not 
create spirits, and endow them with a knowledge 
of himself, in order to allow them to forget him 
again after a brief space. He did not unite souls 
by the spiritual bonds of love, to separate them 
again forever. That which the most cruel human 
being would recoil from, God, who has stamped 
the impress of his love on every marvel of the 
creation, cannot will to do. And therefore the 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 291 

bond that united us in life, O my beloved ! cannot 
have been dissevered by the death of the body. 
I still belong to you, though you are living in 
some other mansion in our Heavenly Father's 
house. 

I shall continue to love you until my heart also 
ceases to beat. And you, — nay, you cannot 
have forgotten me, for God is the God of love, 
and I must still live in your memory, and in your 
holy state you must yearn for me ! You who, 
dwelling in a higher world, see the greatness of 
God in all its wonderful sublimity, you now feel 
for me a more exalted love than I can feel for 
you. Alas ! mine is still mingled with tears ; 
yours knows only rapturous delight. I lift my 
eyes with sadness to the stars, seeking the home 
in which your spirits dwell ; you look down with 
a happy smile upon this planet where I sojourn, 
lonely in the dust, and in secret breathe forth 
your names with many a sigh ! 

The mutual love of souls is eternal, like the 
souls themselves ; eternal, like God and his love. 
It is true, all earthly ties are dissolved between 
the living and the departed spirits, but our spirit- 
ual brotherhood in God continues, and God is the 
Father of all. In the better world we shall all 
be equal, as the angels and the higher powers and 
forces in the creation are equal. 

That which belongs to the body, dies with the 
body. The spiritual alone endures. The power, 



292 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

the faculty of growing in perfection alone con 
tinnes. Our relations must be of a different 
nature in heaven to what they were on earth, 
for they must be purified and spiritualized ; but 
how, we cannot imagine. The occupations of the 
blessed spirits in the next world we are equally 
incapable of conceiving. Most assuredly they 
are neither the same as on earth, nor similar to 
them ; and everything that has been said on the 
subject by presumptuous men is nothing more 
than idle dreams. "We know not how the spirit 
works in a disembodied state, nor do we know 
how, when by the almighty power of God it is 
clothed in more beautiful raiment, it will act 
through this. For who knows the power of God ? 
But this much we do know, and a thrill of hap- 
piness passes through the longing soul at the 
thought ; the loved ones who died here on earth 
still live in a more exalted state. That which has 
once been present is still present in the universe, 
and that which has once lived, still lives. For 
" God is not the God of the dead, but of the 
living." (Matt. xxii. 32.) 

What ecstasy seizes me at this thought, the 
truth of which is so clear, so simple, but which 
only now beams upon me in all its fulness ! 
Where am I ? On this little planet, the earth, 
it is true ; but with it I float in the infinite uni- 
verse, and in time eternal ! Where am I ? With 
thee, O Father ! O God ! Even on this earth I 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 293 

am with thee, and I behold thee, through the 
veil of thy wondrous creation in like manner as 
my soul beholds itself through its earthly veil, the 
body. What a glory diffuses itself over all those 
earthly relations which thou hast appointed for 
me ! The starry heavens become more sacred 
in my eves, — I seem to behold up yonder the 
mansions of my beloved ones in the house of our 
Father. The spot on which I dwell on this little 
earth becomes more holy in my eyes, for it is the 
entrance to the better world! My toiling and 
plodding, my cares and my efforts, all become 
sanctified in my eyes ; they are but the exercise 
of the faculties of the immortal power that dwells 
within me, and that are preparing it for a higher 
existence. One thing only is unholy, and that is 
sin, — the disobedience of the spirit to its own law, 
its disobedience to thy will, O most Holy One ! 

Away, all love, all impure passions, which 
would desecrate me here in the sanctuary of 
my Father! 

Cheerfully I will look up to thee, gladly I will 
resign myself to thee, O Creator, abounding in 
love ! O joy ! to belong to thee, O wonderful 
eternity which Christ opened to me ! To belong 
to you, O blessed spirits of my ever-beloved ones, 
who are beckoning me to follow you into the 
Holy of Holies ! 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
Third Meditation. 

RETRIBUTION. 

Stop, sinner, cast thy sins away ! 

Though vengeance, though the Avenger stay, 

He conies to judge, he hath the power, 

Shed for your guilt the sorrowing tear ; 

The day of wrath may soon appear, 

Swift as a robber in the night. 

Hark ! even now the trumpets call, — 

The stars already pass away, — 
They sound, — they sound, — and trembling all 

From forth their graves must rise to-day. 

When through storm He makes his path, 
Call ye the hills to shield from wrath ; 

" Cover us, hide us," shall ye cry. 
God comes to fill his judgment-seat, 
The heavens shall bow beneath his feet, 
The earth shall melt with fervent heat, 

The universe in ruins lie. 
Yet midst the wreck of worlds undone 

The spirits of the just shall rise — 
Their course fulfilled, their victory won, 

And crowned with glory — to the skies. 

(Matthew xxv. 31 -46.) 

T is when people are deeply distressed 

and almost inconsolable at the death 

of some beloved object, that it is most 

usual to remind them of religion and 

Christianity. At such moments, even those who 




INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 295 

have never previously in words expressed any 
interest in religion, are supposed to entertain 
Christian feelings and sentiments. And rarely 
does a sufferer revolt against the supposition. By 
this very appeal to his own inward religion and 
its consolations he is made religious. It is com- 
forting to him to have a faith, or to profess one. 
In secret, most persons like to think of eternity, 
and of the state of their souls after death ; but 
they rarely speak of these subjects. However, 
when they do touch upon them, it is not without 
warmth and true feeling, yet less with the firm 
voice of conviction, than in the questioning tone 
of curiosity. And those that mock at the idea, 
do so with a certain reserve, as though not quite 
sure that they are right. 

Many a man, though possessed of the same 
ineradicable consciousness of immortality as all 
other men, nevertheless likes, in conversation, 
to affect scepticism. Not, however, because he 
doubts in earnest ; but because, by raising objec- 
tions, he hopes to elicit new proofs in favor of 
his conviction. 

That uneasiness which some people feel at the 
thought of immortality and the future destiny 
of the soul, and which almost takes the form of 
doubt, is owing to their thinking that they must 
be able to give proofs of that which it is as use- 
less as it is impossible to prove. It is impossible, 
because most persons understand by proof, a kind 



296 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

of sensual perception and demonstration of futu- 
rity, which no one ever could pretend to. Even 
after death the thinking spirit can have no other 
test of its immortality than the consciousness that 
it exists, and will continue to exist, and the like 
consciousness it possesses in this life. But in 
this, as in the future life, this feeling or conscious- 
ness is matter of the immediate present ; the con- 
viction is not derived from the future, for that has 
no existence except in idea. When the future 
has been reached, it is no longer future, but 
present. 

To demonstrate that which forms part of our 
self-consciousness is useless. I exist ! Of what 
avail is it to prove it ? I am conscious of it with- 
out any proof, and for this very reason it cannot 
be verified. For only because I am, is it possible 
that there can be any such thing as demonstration 
in the world, as far as I am concerned. God is ! 
Of what avail to prove it ? My consciousness 
tells me so, and millions of proofs, for or against, 
can as little destroy my consciousness of it, as 
they can destroy the nature of my spirit or the 
existence of the world. The immortality of the 
spirit is a fact. Of what avail to prove it ? This 
is not an acquired thought, not an opinion, the 
opposite of which might possibly be demonstrated. 
It is not a faith which we are at liberty to adopt 
or to reject, — no; it is an intuition, proceeding 
from the innermost depths of our spiritual nature, 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 297 

— it is a necessary part of our consciousness. I 
acknowledge that it is possible that in many hu- 
man beings this consciousness has never been 
clearly developed. It may be that there have 
been people who neither knew of the existence 
of God nor of their own immortality, although 
both formed part of their consciousness. But 
there are likewise millions of human beings who 
do not know that they are in health, and yet 
the sensation of health dwells in them, and in all 
their members. A man is not ill because, when 
healthy, he reflects not on health. God and 
immortality are not blotted out because many 
human beings have not yet learnt to reflect on 
their own self-consciousness. Not until we are sick 
in body do we feel the value of health ; and those 
that are sick in mind meditate most upon the pos- 
sibility and the nature of a future existence. In- 
stead, however, of being content with the simple 
and indestructible intuition, this unerring and im- 
mediate revelation of God to the human spirit, 
they seek a standard of measure among things 
sensuous, to aid them in forming a judgment 
of what the spirit may be when raised above all 
sensuous things. They endeavor to embrace the 
super sensuous with the limited faculty of their 
imagination, and to fathom the nature of the 
elementary forces of the universe with ideas bor- 
rowed from their varying earthly phenomena or 
effects. 

13* 



298 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Thus it is that men learn to doubt that which 
they have lost sight of by seeking for it in a false 
direction. Because they cannot bale out the ocean 
with the hollow of their hand, the ocean becomes 
to them a thing of doubtful existence. Hence it 
is that many persons conceive God to be a kind 
of artificially combined action of dead forces, with- 
out self-consciousness, without wisdom, will, or 
love ; and they are thus placed in the degrad- 
ing necessity of assuming that the human spirit 
is nobler than God, because that at least possesses 
the attributes which they deny in him. Hence it 
is that many persons, though admitting the im- 
mortality of the soul, form a conception of this 
immortality that makes it nothing more than a 
kind of extinction ; for although they do not deny 
the eternal existence of the thinking power within 
them, they do not believe in its personality, nor 
in any connection between the present and the 
future. These deluded minds find in all, even 
the smallest things in the universe, the most ad- 
mirable order and adaptation of means to ends ; 
but in regard to the highest and holiest things, 
they think that disorder and the absence of de- 
sign are matters of course. 

These views are no doubt very convenient in 
some respects; for, as in accordance with them, 
there is no connection between this life and the 
future, those who hold them may five as is most 
agreeable to themselves, without a thought of 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 299 

anything further. Cause and effect they per- 
ceive on all sides in the universe ; but that the 
present noble or ignoble life of the soul may, as a 
cause, be followed by its consequences in the 
future state after death, they refuse to believe. 

There are moments, however, when these 
views prove the reverse of convenient; for in- 
stance, when the conscience in its natural might 
speaks in louder tones than the subtle arguments 
of the artificially misdirected intellects of the rea- 
soners. Still more inconvenient do they become, 
when by the force of divinely ordained circum- 
stances beloved friends or relatives are taken 
away from the sceptics, and nothing is left for 
them, while gazing gloomily into the eternal fu- 
ture, but to send up the cry of despair : " Has the 
Creator of the world implanted affection in the 
heart of man in order to prepare a hell for it? 
Did he unite souls in the tenderest of bonds, in 
order, when dissevering these by death, to lacer- 
ate every fibre of the loving heart?" This can- 
not be I Does not all that is good in material 
nature continue forever? why, then, should that 
which is good in spiritual nature die and become 
extinct ? 

God and immortality are irrefragable truths! 
The belief in retribution is a ne'cessary result of 
this conviction, and it is one of the oldest beliefs 
entertained by the human race. It was em- 
bodied in the heathen religions of antiquity, as 



300 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

it is in those of the present day. All religions 
teach, in accordance with the deep-seated intui- 
tions of mankind, that there is a heaven and a 
hell, — an abode of bliss for the good, a place of 
punishment for evil-doers. 

Without retribution, the immortality of the 
spirit loses all meaning, all value ; without immor- 
tality, the existence of the Deity loses all impor- 
tance in our eyes. Belief in the one is founded 
in belief in the other ; the one cannot exist with- 
out the other, — they are indeed identical. 

Jesus constantly alluded to retribution as a con- 
sequence of the justice of God. He referred his 
hearers from this life to its continuance after the 
death of the body, for the solution of all the mys- 
teries and apparent contradictions met with here 
on earth. Who does not know the beautiful and 
striking parable of the rich man and Lazarus, 
which he narrated to his disciples to make clear 
to them the compensation in heaven which fol- 
lows good or evil done or suffered in this world ? 
(Luke xvi. 19 - 31.) Or who does not remem- 
ber the grand and terrible image in which he 
depicted the last judgment ; the stern Judge of 
the dead on his throne of glory, — before him the 
gathered nations, appearing as before a human 
tribunal, — accusation and defence, and finally 
judgment? (Matthew xxv. 31 - 46.) 

In these similes and parables the Divine Teacher 
revealed the future destiny of our souls, the inev- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 301 

itable consequences of our acts, our dispositions, 
and our sentiments, of our virtues, and our sins. 
In each he expressed the eternal truth : Retribu- 
tion awaits you! 

Even the world that now surrounds us is full 
of indications of eternity. "We see now as 
through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face." 
(1 Cor. xiii. 12.) And as I see in the dark glass 
of nature the majesty of God, I divine from the 
creations which surround the earth the order of 
the infinite universe ; as I apprehend from the 
constant presence and never-ceasing activity of 
the unconscious forces of nature, the indestructi- 
bility and everlasting existence of the higher 
powers ; as I behold in this momentary existence, 
called earthly life, but a point of eternity, and 
know myself and all those who have died before 
me to be living in this eternity, so also I perceive 
here below indications of a retribution which 
reigns throughout eternity, as it does on earth. 
As surely as the entire creation and our entire 
life is comprised in the eternal infinite, and as 
surely as the law of retribution will continue to 
reign on earth, after I have left it, as it does now ; 
so surely does it already reign over the spirits who 
dwell not on earth, so surely will it prevail in re- 
gard to those who die after me. 

In nature, everything that is contrary to law is 
attended by evil consequences, whereas every- 
thing that is in accordance with law is attended 



302 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

with satisfactory consequences. Whatever takes 
place is followed by its effects, which, assuming 
ever new forms, continue in endless succession, 
each becoming in its turn a cause. However, we 
cannot always distinguish the consequences of one 
thing from those of another, for they cross and 
intersect each other. But whatever takes place 
to-day is a consequence of what took place yes- 
terday, as this again is the product of previous 
days. Nothing can occur to-morrow the founda- 
tions of which have not been laid to-day or some 
previous day ; and what we call accident is only 
the result of some cause hidden beyond our ken 
in the great crowd of events, — the consequence 
of circumstances which we may have overlooked, 
but which the Lord of the universe had freighted 
with their import. In this ever-flowing stream 
of cause and effect the sceptre of the great Re- 
warder and Avenger makes itself felt. 

If we consider the most insignificant acts of 
human beings, we shall find that they are followed 
by their inevitable consequences in like manner 
as are the acts of nature. There is no difference. 
Imprudence, good sense, levity, all lead to good 
or to evil. And can we suppose that such should 
be the case in respect to natural events, and to 
every act of man or animal, and that the highest 
perfection to which the human spirit can attain 
should alone form an exception to this divine law ? 
Should virtue, the perfected stature of the im- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 303 

mortal soul, alone remain without any conse- 
quences in regard to the soul itself ? Is it indif- 
ferent whether man, made in the Divine image, 
and endowed with free-will, grow in likeness to 
God, or in likeness to the brutes? Who can 
believe this, that knows the earnest lessons which 
life teaches ? What man in his senses can believe 
it ? Who can believe it, that seeks in Jesus the 
highest truth, and who revolts against the thought 
that perfect justice should not be one of the at- 
tributes of God, the all-perfect Being? 

The law of retribution, or of cause and effect, 
prevails. It rules in regard to dead matter ; why 
not in respect to that which is living? In the 
human body lives a sublime power which we call 
spirit, and which is endowed with consciousness, 
perception, and will. It is the nature of this 
power to strive for self-development, that is, to 
strive towards a perfection infinite as all spirit. 
It bears furthermore within itself the eternal law, 
written by the hand of God, and purified from the 
overlying dust of sensuousness by Jesus Christ, 
our Saviour from sin. And according to this law 
is the striving for perfection regulated. 

Can we suppose that the Creator implanted 
within us for no purpose this fundamental instinct 
of self-development ? Or that the law that reg- 
ulates this self-development is given for no pur- 
pose ? Is it a matter of indifference whether we 
follow it, or whether we deviate from it, whether 



304 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

we grow in likeness to the brutes or in likeness tc 
God? 

And if, O man ! this he not a matter of indif- 
ference ; if here also the general law of creation, 
the endless concatenation of cause and conse- 
quence obtains : canst thou believe that the spirit 
is perfected on earth, and that its perfection has 
only reference to the life on this little planet ? 
How is it possible to believe in spiritual perfection 
on earth ? Countless numbers have died early 
from unknown causes, others lose, as they grow 
old, the use of their worn-out senses, and hardly 
retain any power over the body, the tool of the 
soul. Does not this interruption of the onward 
course towards that perfection, which our inward 
instincts and all the laws of nature impel us to 
strive for, indicate that the work is to be continued 
in a future existence ? 

But suppose that the goal of perfection could 
in truth be reached here on earth ; would it be 
of any avail in regard to this life ? Nay, there 
are numbers of human beings that get very well 
through this life without virtue, by the aid of 
cunning and cleverness alone. Look at the beasts 
of the fields, they know naught of the higher 
aspirations of the spirit, and yet they live con- 
tentedly according to their nature. Ah, it is but 
too true, the mere earthly life can be carried on 
without any strength of virtue, but not so the 
true existence of the soul. Therefore virtue does 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 305 

not exist for the sake of this world alone, — it is 
ever pointing to eternity. 

Indeed, it not unfrequently occurs, that virtue 
and mere worldly or animal happiness are diamet- 
rically opposed to each other, — that virtue, which 
transports the spirit with joy, causes suffering to 
the body. Do you think the ennobled spirit will 
not receive compensation in the course of its 
eternal existence ? It may happen, and it has 
happened, that human beings have by means of 
nefarious acts, which they could not think of 
without blushing, and which in their inmost 
hearts they abhorred, secured to themselves the 
most brilliant earthly advantages, such as honors, 
riches, rank, and power. Why, then, did they 
blush, and why did they in secret shudder at their 
own degradation ? It may happen, and it has 
happened, that noble men have felt it their duty 
to shed their blood and to spend their fortunes in 
the cause of truth, or to sacrifice life itself for the 
good of their loved ones, or for the salvation of 
their country or their people ? Why have they 
made these sacrifices ? Why were they unwilling 
to live a life they deemed unworthy ? Why is 
there something far more exquisite than the mere 
breath of life ? Dost thou think that these sub- 
lime characters, with their hearts so fall of excel- 
lence, have died in vain ? O, if thou wert right 
in supposing this, then selfishness would be a vir- 
tue, madness reason, and the highest truth a lying 



306 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

contradiction. No ; there is a God ! And na- 
ture and eternity, in which we have our being, 
are the kingdom of God. And in the realm of 
the All-Just, the law of retribution rules. The 
human spirit, which by its own will, and by rising 
above its animal nature, — above ambition, sen- 
suality, envy, gluttony, the love of revenge, and 
other vicious tendencies, — attains to self-depend- 
ence, freedom, greatness, will be after death a 
more perfect and mature power, a more divine crea- 
ture; and will have made many steps forward in 
the path that leads to the highest goal which the 
Eternal Being has marked out in the infinite dis- 
tances of existence. This spirit will have attained 
to a higher perfection than millions of other be- 
ings, and this is its heaven ! 

And again, if a human creature, endowed with 
will, perceptions, and peculiar spiritual laws, nev- 
ertheless makes himself the slave of sensuality ; 
is cunning, irate, ambitious, gluttonous, covetous, 
voluptuous, or, in other words, lowers himself to 
the level of an animal possessed of the mere germs 
of humanity, — this spiritual being who has un- 
resistingly allowed the self-conscious power within 
him to be overcome by the blind forces of nature, 
will, after the death of the body, be an immature, 
impaired, decrepit power. It has prepared for itself 
the low position it will hold in the scale of beings, 
and in the rank of only half-conscious, animal 
souls. Millions of glorified spirits in the enjoy- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 307 

ment of ineffable bliss hover above it. Its state 
is near to annihilation, and this is its hell! 

Boast not of thy triumph over innocence, un- 
principled seducer ; the brutes also are voluptu- 
ous. Boast not of thy hoarded, useless treasures, 
covetous miser, insensible to the wants and tears 
of thousands of sufferers; the dog also watches 
greedily over its heap of bones. Boast not of thy 
cleverness and cunning, selfish villain ; of how 
thou hast managed to conceal thy malignant trick- 
eries, and to thrust out of thy path those who 
obstructed it ; of how thou art able to enjoy the 
fruits of thy frauds in security and peace ; the 
thievish fox also excels in cunning. Unhappy 
men, ye must seek your equals among the ani- 
mals, — among the glorified spirits you will not 
find them. Ye know not nobility of soul ; can ye 
expect that there be for you a heaven of higher 
perfection ? Ye have not sought for virtue ; 
would ye ask for its reward ? Ye do not admit 
that Jesus died for you ; would ye lay claim to a 
share in the redemption wrought by him ? Ye 
have not acknowledged the Most Holy, and he 
will not acknowledge you. " Verily, I say unto 
you, inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these 
little ones, ye did it not unto me." (Matt. xxv. 
45.) 

As the present day lays the foundation of the 
history of the morrow, so does the life of the spirit 
on earth lay the foundation of its history in eternity 



308 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Improvement and happiness are the objects of the 
better spirits here on earth ; they are their destiny 
in the next world. It is vain curiosity and hope- 
less speculation to endeavor to know how and 
where this destiny will be fulfilled. Sensuous 
man can only comprehend the things of this 
earth ; to grasp the things of other worlds his 
senses do not suffice. Or, is there any one who 
has measured the abounding wealth of God ? It 
would be equally idle to speculate upon the local 
habitation and the mode of punishment of those 
spirits who have rendered themselves unworthy 
of a higher destiny and a better world. Jesus 
speaks of these matters, it is true, but only in 
parables, representing them under the semblance 
of human things. And when he compares the 
deplorable state of the sinner's soul with the 
agony caused to the human body by fire, 
the all-consuming element, he avails himself, 
with terrible purpose, of an image much in use 
at that day among the Jews. 

Nature, reason, and revelation thus agree in 
showing that the death of the body can make no 
difference in the life of the soul ; that between 
the minute in which the last breath is drawn on 
the bed of sickness or on the field of battle, 
and the minute in which, in accordance with the 
eternal laws of the Creator, we enter, as eman- 
cipated, free, self-dependent spirits, into a new 
world, there must necessarily be a moral connec- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 309 

tion, such as that between cause and effect in the 
material world. 

It is thus the soul's active power of virtue that 
raises it up to a higher destination ; and it is not 
the loving Deity that condemns us, but our own 
imperfection and sinfulness. The justice of God 
is tempered by love and mercy, and therefore the 
self-condemned may perhaps, after having been 
purified in the furnace of new and bitter trials, 
again be allowed to approach the all-good One. 
But the more perfect spirits will ever be in 
advance of them, for the consequences of the 
neglect of the soul on earth endure eternally. 

Retribution is the law of thy kingdom, O Lord 
of the universe ! Father and judge of our spirits ! 
I also shall receive my reward and my punish- 
ment. The harvest I am to reap in eternity 
is sown here upon earth ! I shall die, — but 
not cease to exist. Why do I turn pale at the 
thought ? I shall die, — in a few years I shall be 
spoken of as one that has passed away ; a few 
years more, and I shall have been forgotten on 
earth, as millions have been forgotten before me. 
But thou, O Father of spirits ! thou hast not 
forgotten these millions. They still belong to 
thy creation ; they still live ; they are thy chil- 
dren ; thou guidest them to perfection through 
paths unknown to us, in like manner as on earth 
thou gavest them pain and pleasure to serve as 
their monitors. 



310 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

I exist, and shall exist, while others are passing 
heedlessly over my grave. But thou wilt not 
forget me. I am thy child, and shall be so even 
when I shall be freed from the earthly coil that 
now encompasses me. Thy child, perhaps thy 
unhappy child, lost through my own sinfulness ! 
Sold for earthly lust to the vengeance of sin ! 
Removed far from thee, and from the bliss of the 
more perfect spirits, by my neglect of my own 
soul. Woe unto me, should I have debarred 
myself from saying when I die, that I am going 
in to the Father ! should my imperfection have 
raised an eternal barrier between me and my 
glorified beloved ones in the better world. 

I tremble at the thought, that when all earthly 
joys fade in the hour of death, no hopes from the 
gardens of the heavenly paradise may spring up 
to cheer my spirit ! O Eternal Father, I also am 
thy child ! Banish me not from thy presence ! 
Love me, that I may be blessed ! Ah ! thou de- 
sirest that I should be blessed, therefore thou hast 
sent me so many warnings in life ; therefore, also, 
thou didst send thy Son, that I might lay hold of 
the salvation he offered me. Why have I so long 
neglected doing so ? Is it not I alone that am to 
blame ? Alas ! have I not too often been the 
willing slave of my earthly lusts, of the passions 
which I have in common with the brutes ? Ah ! 
how little have I hitherto had in common with 
Jesus ! How can I, after a misspent life here, 
hope for communion with him hereafter ? 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 811 



O Father, have mercy ! Nay, thou never re- 
fuse st mercy ; but do I ask for it with a contrite 
heart ? How many hours will my earthly career 
still last ? Through Jesus I will devote them to 
thee, by endeavoring from this moment forward 
to purify and perfect my own soul. Amen. 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Fourth Meditation. 



REUNION. 

He gave it, he hath taken it away, 

He who in grieving us no joy can take. 
Patient of evil, he the righteous' stay 

And comfort, unto him my prayer I make, — 
Is it not his, all, everything I have 1 

Who, then, can have such right to all as he, 
Who says, " Enclose thy prey," unto the grave ; 

" Bring forth," to mothers in their agony ? 
Reverence is mute, but love in faith is blest. 
God loves us, though he rob us of our best. 

How can he rob us ? He may take again 

What is his own ; but is this robbery 1 
My bitter flowing tears will I restrain ; 

He is almighty, — naught but dust am I ; 
Yet me he raises from my anguish sore 

To his own world of deep, unfading bliss, 
Where loving hearts shall meet again once more, 

Who have been torn apart by death in this. 
What God, the Faithful One, who changeth never, 
Has bound together, he will ne'er dissever. 

(Luke xxiii. 43.) 

LEED freely, and bleed ever afresh, 
deep wounds of my heart ! Welcome 
[ again and again, nameless and holy- 
sorrow which stirs my spirit at the 
thought of the loved one who has left me. To 




INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 313 

the living I can speak words of affection, I can 
devote acts of friendship, I can express my love 
in tender caresses ; but what can I give to the 
beloved dead, whose ashes repose in the grave ? 
To Mm I can offer no other tribute than the tears 
which I shed in remembering him, — no signs 
of affection but my sighs. In my solitary walks, 
where his cherished image ever accompanies me, 
my hands are clasped in constantly renewed 
agony, my streaming eyes are turned silently to- 
wards heaven, and from my lips escapes the sigh : 
44 O my God ! my God ! why was I doomed to lose 
the loved one of my soul, the light of my days ? 
Alas ! why was he so early torn away from my 
heart ? He was happy ; why was he not left to 
enjoy still further happiness ? He was devoted 
to me with tender fidelity ; why was he not al- 
lowed to reap the reward thereof? Fain would 
he have clung to life, — fain would he have lin- 
gered in pain and illness, could he but have re- 
mained among us. In vain ! The film of death 
spread over his eyes, and the soul, so full of love, 
departed from us. Ah ! how willingly would I 
have given my life to reknit again the bonds 
which bound him to life. But my prayers were 
unheard ! There was no mercy for me ! It was 
accomplished. The heart ceased to beat. In 
obedience to the call of the Almighty, the spirit 
of a new angel left us, — hastened along new 
paths into the regions of eternal glory." 

14 



314 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

They try to comfort me, saying : " Why dost 
thou weep, thy beloved is happy ? Wouldst thou, 
were it in thy power, deprive him of the bliss 
which the Eternal Father has vouchsafed to him ? 
He has won the victory ; thy grief is of no avail. 
Call not upon thy glorified loved one, he is hap- 
py ! " — What feeble consolation ! He is happy, 
the angel who has fled from us ! I know he is 
happy, for I believe in God. Did I not know 
this, I should despair; I should curse my exist- 
ence in a world so unmerciful, that it has only 
tears for virtue, only cruel separation for faithful, 
loving souls ; while for heartless vice it has pleas- 
ure, and for treacherous infidelity, satisfaction. 
He is happy, I know it, for I know God and his 
love. But I, — am I happy? For that which 
the beloved departed spirit has lost he will find 
boundless compensation in a higher and better 
life. But what can make amends to me, in this 
world, for my heart-rending loss ? I have still 
friends, it is true ; but he is not among them. 
I may win new friends, but I shall never again 
press him to my lacerated heart. In vain I call 
his name ; in vain I pray ; in vain I stretch out 
my arms towards him. Others whom God has 
left me are dear to my heart ; but they cannot 
take the place of him I have lost. For in the 
love of souls, one cannot take the place of another. 

Therefore will I not only be faithful to my love 
through life, but also to my sorrow. It is the 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 315 

sweetest incense which widowed faith can offer 
on the altar of the dead. It will die with me, 
when in the last hour, the yearning aspirations 
of my heart shall at length be dissolved in the 
ecstasy of approaching reunion. 

Why force such consolation upon me ? It will 
not give me back my lost one. My grief may, 
perhaps, in time become less poignant, but my 
love and my longing will remain the same, 
even though I should hide them from the world. 
Why, then, try to console me ? 

Hast thou beheld thy father or thy mother in 
the narrow coffin, — hast thou seen the venerable 
head resting with closed eyes in the eternal sleep 
of death ? Ah ! if so, with what tenderness didst 
thou not gaze for the last time upon the features 
of the countenance which had so often beamed 
upon thee with affection ; with what reverence 
didst thou not touch the stiffened hand, which 
guided thee so tenderly in youth, — which in 
infancy so willingly lifted thee over every thorn 
in thy path, — which had so often been raised to 
heaven in supplication for thee ! Hast thou be- 
held the corpse of thy child in its coffin ? Thy 
sweet child whom thou didst tend and watch 
through many anxious days and sorrowful nights ! 
But thy care proved vain. Thy hopes lay strewn 
like withered leaves over the lovely corpse. The 
joys which the future had promised died with thy 
darling. In his face, still lovely in death, thou 



316 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

didst read the tenderness with which his heart 
beat for thee before its throbbings were stilled 
With stifled voice thou didst whisper the last, the 
eternal good-night ! You were separated. The 
heart of father or of mother had to tear itself 
from the child of its affections, and to resign 
itself to solitude. 

Hast thou seen thy husband or thy wife stretched 
with, pallid cheek on the funeral bier ? Thy heaven 
on earth, thy better half, laid low in death ? Then 
hast thou felt as though thou wert no longer thy- 
self, as though the nobler part of thyself had been 
taken away. Widow, or widower, didst thou 
not sob forth : " Why, O why have I been left 
behind ? Why cannot I follow thee into thy 
heaven ? " 

Hast thou seen brother, or sister, or friend, or 
beloved companion of thy childhood, laid low in 
death? Hast thou seen the cherished remains 
borne away from thy home, and with them all 
the joys that had sprung from the happy rela- 
tionship ? Thou stoodst there like a tree struck 
by lightning, that has lost its leafy crown, and has 
been rent asunder in the prime of its strength. 

O, how bitter is the pain of parting in death ! 
Is then affection a crime, that it must be so cruelly 
expiated ? Why did the Creator give us a heart 
receptive of love, and endow us with a wealth of 
tender feelings, if this heart and these feelings 
are not to be taken into account in this life ? 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 317 

Why was the treasured object bestowed upon me, 
and why was I allowed to bind myself to him 
by such tender bonds, if these were to be dissev- 
ered, and the pain thus rendered tenfold greater ? 
What had my beloved lost one been guilty of, 
that he should be doomed to suffer so intensely in 
his last moments ? Why should this angel, when 
drawing near to the hour of his glorification, be 
tortured with the pangs of disease ? Of what 
good was it to me to witness his patient suffering ? 
These are fearful, cruel enigmas, which I cannot 
solve ! But they render my grief more intense ; 
they increase my sense of misery to an unutter- 
able degree. I see how wretched is the lot of 
man, I see that the mercy of the Eternal Father 
is no more. O my God, thy mercy ? Ah ! for- 
give, forgive the injustice which the despair of 
the moment inspired ! No, thy mercy never 
ceases ! Even on the bed of death thou wert 
the Father of the sufferer. Thou didst not inflict 
greater pain than he could bear, and his severest 
agonies thou didst mercifully assuage by uncon- 
sciousness. He was perhaps less aware of his 
physical state than I supposed. My tender anx- 
iety, my imagination filled with terrors, impressed 
me with exaggerated notions of the pangs which 
he endured. Perhaps I suffered even more than 
he, for what is the anguish of the body compared 
with that of the soul ? Great is my distress, O 
Father ! But greater still my faith in thy wise 



318 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

guidance and in thy unbounded love. Thou, O 
Lord, didst give me my soul's beloved ; and thou, 
O Lord, hast taken him away. 

But why hast thou taken him away ? Wherein 
had I offended ? Was my love for him too great ? 
Was I unworthy of my tranquil happiness ? Can 
we love too much ? Yes, Father, I acknowledge 
it ; we love too much when we cling so passionately 
to some object in this world, as though it were to be* 
long to us forever. Did I not know that here on 
earth human beings meet but for a little while ? 
Did I not know that either he, the object of my 
affection, must leave this world before me, or I 
before him ? The first time we grasp a new 
friend's hand, we ought to think of the parting 
pressure we may have to give to that same hand, 
and to remember that the hour of separation is 
ever nearer than we anticipate ; this will prevent 
our friendship from becoming too ardent. When 
father and mother impress the first rapturous kiss 
on the soft cheek of the new-born babe, let them 
remember that this sweet plant of God is in- 
trusted to their care for a few hours, a few weeks, 
or a few years, only. Then they will each day 
be prepared to give back the precious nursling 
when the Lord demands it. Woe to them if they 
deceive themselves, if their passionate fondness 
refuse to believe in the possibility of separation, 
and they mock at the warnings of reason ! Then 
the loss becomes a punishment, and the anguish so 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 319 

much the more poignant, because it is a consequence 
of their oivn want of reflection. 

Yes, Heavenly Father, I acknowledge how 
earnestly thou dost ever admonish our souls not 
to give themselves up with too great devotion 
even to the noblest pleasures here below. We 
are not to abide here. Our life on earth is to be 
but the beginning of our life in heaven. Here 
we are but to lay the foundations of the holy and 
beautiful things, which are to be completed in the 
true home of our spirits. We must ever keep 
in mind that each good we may enjoy on earth 
is but a loan, not a possession ; that nothing is our 
own but our virtue ; and that everything is in thy 
power, O Father, not in ours. When we forget 
this, we begin also to forget our own destination ; 
and we may then be thankful for some serious 
warning, that rouses us out of our dreams and 
delusions, and, as it were, calls out to us : " Here 
you cannot abide ; here all is fleeting ! think of 
elevating your minds by truth, of ennobling your 
souls by fulfilling the word of Jesus. The most 
virtuous is the most happy, only to the holy be- 
longs the holiest, here and hereafter." 

I will therefore try to be composed. I will listen 
to the voice of religion, to the voice of truth, — 
indeed, were I to refuse to listen to it, would 
I not have to expiate my immoderate passion 
by severer suffering ? If my misfortune fail to 
make me wiser, should I not deserve to be awak- 



320 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

ened to a sense of my duty by still greater mis- 
fortunes ? I will no longer give myself up to the 
unavailing melancholy that renders me incapable 
of fulfilling my duties towards my God and to- 
wards my fellow-men. I will banish from my 
mind all gloomy images, and will cease to torment 
myself with questionings as to whether I had 
done enough for the dear departed one, or wheth- 
er I had not neglected some kindness that might 
have been shown him either during health or ill- 
ness. If this has been the case, it was the will 
of Providence that it should be so. How can 
man with his limited insight and power hope to 
escape errors and shortcomings ? 

God willed the death of him for whom I have 
wept so much ; he was ripe for the better world. 
Before I drew the breath of life, before my lost 
one was born, God had fixed his last hour. The 
germ of his destiny began to unfold from the first 
moment he beheld the light of the world, and the 
appointed events of his life commenced their in- 
fluence. He was still smiling cheerfully in the 
circle of his relatives, when he began to die, and 
the angel of death was hovering over him. His 
death, and the very hour at which it took place, 
were the consequence of a moment long past and 
unknown to him. All the skill of the physician, 
all my tending, could not have added one span to 
his life. The bright light was to be extinguished. 
In all probability the treatment by the physician, 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 321 

my care, and my prayers were also included in 
the pre-ordained concatenation of events. God's 
providence had taken these also into account, and 
permitted part of their activity to take effect, but 
only the useful part. And when the life of the 
dear one was ripe for the sickle, all human skill 
and care proved unavailing. But God's will was 
carried out. And shall I dare to complain ? Am 
I wiser than Divine Providence ? Kinder than 
the Creator ? I loved the dear one who has gone 
to rest; but God also loved him. What God 
doeth is well done. He separated a beloved soul 
from me. My tears flow. 

God separated ! Nay, God of Love, thou dost 
not separate souls thou hast once united ! Who 
says that my glorified friend is lost to me ? That 
which is with God cannot be lost. And am I not 
in God's hand, and my beloved likewise ? Am I 
not in my Father's house, and my beloved also ? 
I live, but thou also, O cherished soul, art living ! 
I think of thee with a sad, yearning heart ; canst 
thou have ceased to think of me ? Can love be 
extinguished, when God is love ? 

Thou rejoicest to-day in thy more perfect state, 
in the better world ! While my tears are flowing 
thou mayest be exulting in new-born bliss. While 
I stammer forth thy earthly name with trembling 
lips, thou mayest be awaiting my approaching 
arrival with joyful anticipation. O glorified spirit, 
God's love has perhaps vouchsafed to thee a hap- 

14* u 



322 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

piness which in my mortal state I am incapable of 
conceiving ! Thou seest me in my lonely sorrow, 
thou lovest me, hoverest around me, guidest me ! 
Perhaps thou art one of the guardian angels who 
carry out the Lord's behests in regard to me. 

Nay, we are not separated. The divine uni- 
verse is but one. This earth forms part of the 
divine edifice ; the present hour forms part of 
eternity. I enjoy it here on earth, and thou en- 
joy est it in happier regions. We still belong to 
each other, although thou hast gone in earlier to 
the Father, by whom I, also, shall one day be 
called. And of what great importance is it 
whether we be summoned to enter the Holy 
of Holies an hour earlier or an hour later ? I 
am not yet called because I have still much of my 
Father's work to do on earth. His holy will be 
done. I know that for me, also, unutterable fe- 
licity is in store, when I shall have completed my 
course. Whether it be in this year or in another, 
what matters it ? What is the longest duration 
of man's career ? A fleeting morning dream. 
When it is passed, and the hour strikes, O then 
to meet again, to stand face to face again with 
thee, shall be the reward of my faithful, glorified 
spirit. To be reunited to thee ! To see thee 
again ! O thought full of heavenly rapture ! To 
meet thee again, absent angel, whose loss I am 
ever lamenting ! What a moment will that be in 
the paradise of the better world ! As human 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 323 

beings, we should cling to each other with tears 
of unspeakable joy ; as glorified spirits, we shall 
bow down in grateful adoration of God, and be 
dissolved in bliss. 

Reunion ! But can it be possible ? On what 
do I ground the sweet hope ? Whence does it 
come to me ? 

O thou, whose wisdom has so often lifted my 
soul to God, whose word has never deceived me, 
whose promises have ever been wonderfully ful- 
filled, — Jesus Christ, eternal Son of the living 
Father, sent to comfort suffering humanity, thou 
hast inspired me with this hope and trust. When 
on the cross, thou spakest to thy fellow-sufferer, 
"Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be 
with me in paradise," (Luke xxiii. 43,) thou 
didst speak words of rapturous hope to all sor- 
rowing souls. 

He, for whom I am weeping here in the dust, 
has not been taken from me forever. We shall 
be reunited ; God's voice has promised it. Even 
in material nature I perceive a wonderful striving 
of dissevered forces towards reunion. Those 
elements which belong together will, in spite of 
all man's efforts to separate them, always find the 
means of reuniting. I see throughout creation 
that among the living organisms as well as in 
inanimate matter, certain beings and certain 
things are in closer affinity to each other than 
others, and are ever mutually attracting one an- 



324 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

other, and amalgamating. Throughout God's 
great kingdom there is a division and a connec- 
tion of things, as in families ; they adhere to each 
other, they always find each other again. "Were 
it not for this fundamental principle in creation, 
the world would be a chaos, and endless confusion 
of forces and phenomena ; there would be no 
separation and no combination. But light ever 
blends with light, earth with earth. Watery par- 
ticles rise up from ocean, lakes, and rivers, but 
return again from the skies as rain or dew. Each 
thing finds its like. I am astounded at the effects 
even of the elective affinities in lifeless matter, 
in which like always seeks and amalgamates irre- 
sistibly with like, while it rejects whatever is 
foreign to it. And what we call elective affinity 
and sympathy in the material world, is love in the 
spiritual realm. God himself is the highest power 
of love, hence the never-satisfied yearning of the 
spirit for union with him, for happiness in him, 
for perfection. 

And if this divine law of attraction and re- 
union rules on earth, and in the high heavens, 
as far as my eye can penetrate the various fami- 
lies or galaxies of stars, — where every planet 
has its satellite, where every sun belongs to a 
special system of planets, — can we suppose that 
it rules less in the world of the higher spirits, 
where that which in lifeless things is but a vague 
impulse, is raised and ennobled into a conscious 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 325 

sentiment? — in that world where dwells God, 
the source of all love, where his laws and his 
works are but the results of love ? 

It is true, the form in which the beloved being 
became dear to me on earth rests in the grave. 
But in reality it was not this perishable form that 
I loved, but the imperishable spirit ; and the veil 
that surrounded the lovely soul was only dear to 
me because of its connection with the angel spirit 
whom it concealed. The veil has fallen, but the 
angel lives ! But shall I meet him again ? If so, 
how shall I recognize him, since he has lost that 
outer form in which alone I knew him. 

Why these questions so full of doubt ? Poor 
mortal, hast thou measured the power of God? 
By what means do the elementary bodies in cre- 
ation find and recognize each other? 

When bright-eyed spring awakes, millions of 
plants stand forth in the full bloom of their love- 
liness, and each species sends forth through the 
air its golden pollen to the others of its kind. 
Without this pollen fructification is impossible. 
These blossoms are often separated by consider- 
able distances, and yet the pollen, the almost 
invisible dust, finds the flower for which it is 
intended. Among millions of flowers it floats 
as if attracted by some magic power towards 
that one only which is of similar nature to itself. 
Here in this earthly part of creation is a miracle 
which I witness every year. And is this mir- 



326 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

acle of the Almighty not an indication of the 
things of eternity? That infinite power of God 
which guides the fructifying pollen from afar to 
the only flower that awaits it, can it fail in the 
realm of higher beings, more closely akin to the 
Godhead ? O yes ; there is reunion after death ! 
That which God has united is united forever. 
Therefore, O beloved spirit ! beloved through 
eternity ! we can never be parted. Thou in 
heaven, and I on earth, belong to each other 
forever. Be happy in the higher regions where 
thou dwellest. I shall one day be with you in 
paradise. Why, then, should I weep ? We are 
both living in the great house of our Father. To 
me thy absence is pain, it is true ; but I could 
not, would not, wish that thou shouldst again 
wander with me here on earth among the living. 
Even had I the power to call thee down again 
from thy blissful habitation, I would not do so. 
For thou hast fought the good fight; thou hast 
won the victory ; it is not for thee to return to 
me, but for me to hasten to thee. I know the 
way that will lead me to thee without fail, — it is 
the path of earnest dutifulness, the sincere Chris- 
tian spirit with which I fulfil God's behests on 
earth, — it is the way to God himself. Sin and 
vice only can separate me from God and thee. 

My anguish was great at thy death, but great 
is now the joy of my soul. Thou, O blessed 
spirit, art my beloved still, and thou drawest me 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 327 

with hallowed bonds after thee into the better 
world. Through the love of spirits, heaven and 
earth are made akin. Some of my dear ones 
are w T ith God. What a heavenly thought is not 
this! 

Father in heaven, my Father and Father of 
the glorified souls that belong to me ! As in the 
cruel hour of parting I raised my hands to thee 
in anxious supplication, and with streaming eyes 
I prayed, "O, leave me my beloved!" in like 
manner, Father, I now raise my hands to thee, 
with exultant satisfaction, crying, " Thanks that 
thou didst call away my precious one ! " His 
death has, indeed, deeply shaken my whole 
being, but it has made me nobler, holier, more 
religious. I feel myself drawn nearer to thee ; 
I feel more alienated from earth and all its be- 
longings, and will never again give myself up to 
these with immoderate ardor; a bond is estab- 
lished between me and eternity which can never 
be destroyed. I no longer live on earth only ; I 
live, also, in heaven with thee, and the dear one 
whom thou gavest me, and whom thou didst 
take away. 

There was a time when the thought of death 
and the grave overwhelmed me and made me 
shudder. How could I, indeed, love death and 
the grave, when to me they were only the great 
gulf that threatened to swallow up my happiness ! 
Then the earth was still a heaven to me, and thy 



328 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

heaven, O God, a sacred desert, in which I 
thought of myself as a stranger, whom no one 
there knew or loved. And I feared death, and 
recoiled from the unknown land. 

Now it is the goal of my longings ; there is my 
haven of rest, my home, all that I most treasure ! 
There are the companions of my heart, of my 
life ! And when I feel most happy among my 
friends on earth, the thought comes to me, In 
heaven thou wilt he happier still ! When gloom 
settles on earthly things, I say to myself, Yonder 
all will he clear and unclouded. 

Through Jesus Christ I will render myself 
worthy of the Miss thou hast prepared for me 
from the beginning of time. O Father, I will do 
thy bidding ! I will live a life of love and devo- 
tion to my fellow-men, so that I may hereafter, 
in my glorified state, enjoy thy love. Amen. 
Help me, O Lord Jesus, Light of my soul! 
Amen. 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Fifth Meditation. 

REUNION. 

When o'er my cold and narrow bed, 
The last fond parting tear is shed 

By sorrowing friendship, broken-hearted, 
In that blest life shall I rejoice, 
Where round me sounds each dear one's voice, 

Where God again unites the parted. 

What we begin in weakness here 
Shall rise to full perfection there, — 

Perfect ! eternal ! — one the word. 
The earthly germ of purest love 
Can only bloom in heaven above ; 

For there is bliss, and there the Lord. 

(John xvi. 16-22.) 

'ISE up, O my soul, from the tumult 
of this life into thy true freedom ; 
throw off the burden of thy sorrows 
and expand in the hope of eternal 
peace ; look up from the whirl of pleasure, and 
contemplate thy higher destination ! 

For what is this drop of earthly life in which 
thou at present revellest, when compared to the 
ocean of infinite glory which will be opened to 




330 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

thy admiring gaze when this short dream is past ? 
What is all the pomp of the earth, all the glitter 
of golden dust here below, when compared to the 
splendor that will meet thine eyes at the portals 
of Eternity ? Ah, why waste thy admiration on 
the poor torch with which thou illumine st thy 
dwelling ? What is it compared to the lustre of 
the sun, in whose effulgence countless worlds 
float, drinking in light and heat and life ? 

Yea, Eternity, final goal towards which all are 
hastening, — the sorrowing and the joyful, the 
king and the beggar, the sage and the fool, the 
old man and the laughing child, — Eternity, that 
awaits us all, be thou to-day the subject of my 
thoughts ! The very mention of thy name makes 
my soul feel freer, nobler, purer ! Earthly things, 
which at other times fill me with pleasure, or 
wound me with their thorns, seem insignificant 
and contemptible in thy presence. Religion is 
more attractive, more divine, more exalting, when 
it awakens in my bosom wonderful presentiments 
of a future existence. Eternity, at the thought 
of which levity shudders, sin turns pale, and the 
sceptic trembles in doubt, — Eternity, consum- 
mator of all that is begun, retributive judge with 
sword and palm-branch, all-reconciling, all-equal- 
izing Eternity, — thou art the comforter of the 
sage, the joyful hope of the Christian ! 

To me also thou shalt bring consolation and 
hope, — consolation, when I weep over my un- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 331 

happy lot ; hope, when amid a cheerful circle of 
friends I rejoice in life. Consolation, when my 
views of life become obscured by melancholy ; 
hope, when in the midst of joy and happiness 
the thought forces itself upon me, Everything 
changes, and what man possesses is taken from 
him again ! Consolation, when the hand of death 
robs me of my dear ones, when I stand sorrowing 
by their death-bed, gazing with tearful eyes at 
their pale, cold, rigid features, which will never 
again smile sweetly upon me ; hope, when one 
day death beckons me also, and I must part from 
souls tenderly devoted to me, from affectionate 
friends and weeping orphans. 

O Eternity, my hope and consolation, revealed 
to me through Jesus Christ, thou storest up for 
me all the treasures of joy which have fled from 
me here below ! Why, then, should I tremble 
before thee ? Towards thee the storm- wind car- 
ries the sweet blossoms, which it here snatches 
from my wreath of joys. Why, then, tremble at 
the thought of thee ? In thee, and in thee only, 
can I find again that which I have lost on earth, 
and that which I shall leave behind me on earth, 
when I, in my turn, am called away. What deep 
and rapturous emotion is caused by the thought, 
that I shall find again what I have lost ! That in 
eternity I may hope to see again those whom I 
saw and loved on earth ! O my dear, my beloved 
parents ! O affectionate companions of my child- 



232 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

hood ! ye who were bound to my heart by 
ties of blood and tenderness ! O ye whom my 
tears, my silent despair, could not recall to life ! 
O ye who departed sorrowfully from me to go 
over into the better existence, — I shall find you 
again ! I shall see you again ! 

My heart swells with new and heavenly joy, — 
my eyes o'ernow with tears of longing, — my 
spirit, rising on the wings of prayer, guided by 
the light of religion, approaches the mysterious 
portals of eternity ; it draws nigh unto you in the 
lovely and distant worlds in which God dwells, 
and where you abide, in a nobler, happier state 
than mine. I am still here in the prison-house 
of earth ; ye are free in the higher world ! I am 
still weak and imperfect, now dwelling in sun- 
shine, now in shade ; ye revel in the never-cloud- 
ed brightness of the Deity, of the angels, and the 
blessed ! O, could ye hear the voice of my heart, 
could ye see the tears with which I yearn for 
you ! I call to you, I sob forth the prayer, Re- 
member in your beatitude the one you left behind, 
and who will love you evermore ! There is a 
God, and Gfod will reunite us I 

We shall see each other again ! It is no dream, 
it is no delusion ! Jesus, the sanctifier of the 
world, Jesus, the Revealer of God, has promised 
it to his followers. 

He spake the sweetest of all consolations when, 
in one of the most trying hours of his life, he 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 333 

foretold to his disciples the tribulations and perse- 
cutions they would have to endure ; and en- 
deavored to prepare these men, who clung to him 
with childlike simplicity and devotion, for his 
death, his going in to the Father. " A little 
while, and ye shall not see me ; again, a little 
while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the 
Father. Ye now have sorrow ; but I will see you 
again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy 
no man taketh from you." (John xvi. 16, 22.) 

We shall see each other again ! In that fearful 
hour of death when Christ, bleeding on the cross, 
seemed abandoned by God, a malefactor, con- 
demned to the same death as himself, but full of 
faith, prayed to him for comfort, and Jesus gave 
him the most blessed of all consolations. " Veri- 
ly," so spake the World-Redeemer, and spake it 
with dying voice, — " Verily I say unto thee, To- 
day shalt thou be with me in paradise." (Luke 
xxiii. 43.) 

Can I doubt when Jesus speaks, Jesus, the mi- 
raculous Heaven-sent Messenger, Jesus, born of 
God, and who came to enlighten the dark world 
of spirits in accordance with the will of the Eter- 
nal Father ? Can I doubt the word of life which 
he brought to many ? In whom could I believe 
if not in him ? Is there any one who before him 
or after him has proclaimed more sublime and 
sacred truths ? Who has there been before or 
after him who, like him, has taught in such a way 



334 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

that the wisest of living men, and the simplest 
child, could follow him as an unerring guide ? 
Who has before him or since given such an 
example to the world of holy living ? Who 
has, like him, taught the human race self-knowl- 
edge, and pointed out its true dignity and desti- 
nation ? 

We shall see each other again ! Jesus hath 
said it. With deepest fervor my faith embraces 
this divine truth, which I hold from him, and 
which is in such perfect harmony with God's love 
and greatness ; which affords a sacred key to the 
thousand dark mysteries of life on earth, and 
without which I can see naught in creation but 
saddest contradiction, aimlessness, and confusion. 

Thou sayest, O melancholy sceptic : "I cannot 
conceive how we shall be able to find each other 
and to recognize each other hi that other world ! 
For though the spirit may go into a happier ex- 
istence, the body, through means of which we 
know each other here below, remains in the 
grave, and returns to the dust from whence it 
came." I admit that dust returns to dust ; but 
it was not dust which was loved by dust, — it 
was the soul which clung lovingly to another 
soul. Thou doubtest, because thou canst not 
solve the mysteries of eternity. Thou doubtest, 
because thy limited understanding cannot fathom 
the depths of God's omniscience and omnipotence. 
Thou doubtest, because thou dost not know in 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 385 

what form the spirit is clad after death. He 
who would know this, he who would embrace 
and understand the entire order of creation, he 
must himself be God. This thou art not. 

The limitations of thy understanding preclude 
thee from the highest knowledge; but the force of 
thy reason impels thee to nourish the highest faith. 
And the laws of reason are the voice of the 
Deity ! To resist these laws is to descend to the 
level of the animals, and is a proof of insanity. 
Be what thou wert meant to be, what thou art 
bound to be, — a reasonable being, — and thou 
wilt at once find that the most perfect accord- 
ance reigns in the universe. 

But whatever the cavilling sceptic may say, he 
can only assert that it is possible that death may 
separate us forever ! But he can prove nothing 
against the hope that whispers, It is possible that 
we may meet again on the other side of the 
grave ! His arguments are mere conjectures, 
inspired by his splenetic mood, or, perhaps, by a 
vain desire to say something striking. His own 
feelings must revolt against these weapons, with 
which, weak as they are, he would endeavor to 
shake the power of his own faith, and the faith of 
all nations, civilized or savage. Even in soulless 
nature, we perceive that kindred forces mutually 
attract each other in obedience to laws unknown 
to us. And when dust flies to dust to unite itself 
with it, how can we suppose that higher organiza- 



336 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

tions, self-conscious beings, should be excluded 
from the rule of these beneficent laws of attrac- 
tion ? Are our spirits of less importance than the 
pollen, which escapes from the cup of the flower 
to seek, among a thousand others, for one of simi- 
lar nature which it may fructify ? Sceptic, ex- 
plain to me this incomprehensible wonder, and I 
will explain to thee how self-conscious, self-direct- 
ing, and living spirits find each other again, and 
satisfy their yearnings in the regions of eternity. 

Was it man who prescribed for man the law of 
eternal love ? Was it man who implanted in his 
own bosom all the best affections ? Was it man 
who, together with the sentiment of love, created 
its desire for everlasting duration ? Nay, it was 
God's hand that planted these feelings in our 
hearts ; it was God who inspired the desire of kin- 
dred souls for eternal union. And He who bound 
us together here on earth, for a brief space of 
time, by such tender ties, — he who is Love, 
Mercy, Goodness, — would he dissever again, for 
no purpose, the bonds which he himself had 
woven ? He, the Most Blessed, would he inflict 
upon us woe greater than the most cruel of men 
could subject us to? He, the all-holy One, would 
he delude us through means of our holiest feel- 
ings, and deceive us in the hour of death ? He 
who bids our hearts to love, would he desire to 
witness our despair ? 

Base and terrible thought, flee from me. I 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 337 

believe in the all-perfect God, and with this faith 
comes the tranquillizing conviction that he will 
not dissever the sacred ties that bind soul to 
soul, and which he himself created. He is all- 
perfect, and cannot repent of any of his works. 
How, then, should he repent the noblest of his 
inspirations and provisions, — the mutual love of 
souls, their happiness, and its duration ? 

God is ! Therefore shall we, who were created 
for each other, meet again. Me is the Creator, 
and he is love ! We shall see each other again, 
we shall belong to each other again ; eternity will 
satisfy the longings of millions of noble souls. 

What would immortality be without the im- 
mortality of my consciousness, without a continu- 
ance of my higher essence ? And is it not the 
power of virtue and love in the soul, which alone 
gives me any value in my own eyes, and makes 
the world of any value to me ? 

Immortality without the consciousness that I 
have previously existed, without connection with 
the past, would not be immortality, but annihila- 
tion. Were I to be born again in eternity without 
any consciousness of my past existence, my birth 
would be nothing more than the creation of a 
new being, who had never until then existed. 

No ; God is ! And sure as he is eternal and 
all-perfect, I am immortal ; and being so, the 
power of my spirit, my virtue, my love, cannot 
die with my body. Every nightly slumber on 

15 



338 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

eartli is like unto death, and every awakening 
like the new existence. Each morn when I arise 
from sleep the remembrance of my previous life, 
my acquired virtues, my sentiments of friendship, 
return. Explain to me, O sceptic, what makes 
this miracle possible every morning ; then will 
I explain how it is possible that kindred souls 
should recognize each other, and cling to each 
other, in eternity also. 

Were those bonds, which God has knit to- 
gether, to be dissevered forever by death ; were 
my faithful love and the hope of sweet reunion to 
die with my body, — O then all that seems to 
me most glorious in God's world would be dis- 
jointed and annihilated ! My soul would be 
robbed of its most precious treasures, of its sweet- 
est joys, — all eternity would be to me like a 
place of banishment, where my bereaved soul 
would roam about, searching in vain for what it 
had lost. O in that case, an everlasting grave 
would be far preferable to an everlasting life, in 
which love could only weep hopelessly at the re- 
membrance of its losses. Then we should shun 
love and friendship on earth even more than envy 
and hatred. Then the greater part of the earthly 
life of millions and millions of noble human spirits 
will have been as naught. O then I should 
implore the Eternal Love to root out all affection 
from my heart. My cry to God would be : Why 
didst thou give me a heart, if such wounds were 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 339 

to be inflicted on it ? Why didst thou lead be- 
loved souls towards me, if thou didst mean to 
tear them away from me again ? Why didst thou 
bestow upon me this sentiment of love, this heart 
full of faith, if it only enables me to feel more 
deeply my losses, only gives me the capacity for 
more intense suffering? In vain, then, is the 
hope which makes husband or wife die with the 
name of the beloved spouse on his or her lips, 
which makes a sister pronounce the name of a 
dear brother, or a tender mother that of her dar- 
ling child ? Eternity would thus be an infinitely 
enduring, never-satisfied longing, — a never-ceas- 
ing lamentation over losses never to be repaired. 

Nay, sad sceptic, listen to the words of Jesus, 
who promises us reunion in eternity ! Listen to 
the voice of reason, which condemns those in- 
sane doubts of thine, that would throw the world 
into confusion, and would make thine own life 
and the whole of creation appear aimless and dis- 
jointed ! Acknowledge what experience teaches 
thee each day, what the entire history of the 
world, what every look at the wide creation 
teaches thee, — Grod leaves nothing incomplete which 
he has created ! He does not begin, and then leave 
unfinished ; he is eternal, and eternal is all that 
he has brought into existence. 

One of the most blessed and tranquillizing rea- 
sons for the belief in the immortality of the soul 
is the inward aspiration after virtue, and the hap- 



340 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

piness attendant upon this, which the Deity has 
implanted in us. The goal we thus strive for is 
seldom reached on earth; the virtuous man is 
often the most unhappy ; therefore, only in eter- 
nity can this thirst for perfection and for happi- 
ness be satisfied; but there it must be satisfied, 
if everything here below is not to be looked upon 
as aimless, and if virtue itself is not to be deemed 
a vain delusion. 

Every reason for belief in the immortality of 
the soul is at the same time a reason for the 
belief that kindred souls will meet again in eter- 
nity. Alas ! what manifold sufferings do not 
noble beings here below endure for the sake of 
their beloved ones, — friend for friend, parents 
for children. And can we suppose that these 
tears, these cares, these sacrifices, will remain 
unrequited ? Death robs them of the noblest, the 
dearest, part of their life ; and you suppose that 
their grief would remain unheeded, forgotten, by 
the justice of an all-loving Godhead ? 

No, no ; the heart revolts against this thought ; 
reason condemns it ; the divine words spoken by 
the lips of Jesus contradict it. 

Dwell ever with me, sweet and heavenly faith, 
that I shall one day meet again, in the land where 
tears never flow, all the dear ones whom I have 
lost here below. This faith dispels the gloom of 
life. In its light God and his creation, life and 
eternity, appear in more glorious connection and 
accordance. . 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 341 

We shall meet again, — what matters it how 
and where? God is there as here, and his will 
is our bliss. We shall be reunited, O ye ever- 
beloved souls ! it is no dream, no empty delusion, 
that we shall belong to each other forevermore. 

Ah ye, whose lowly graves the green mould of 
forgetfulness is already overspreading, ye are not 
forgotten by me. My heart still beats for you as 
when it responded to yours ; my eyes still shed 
tears at the remembrance of our parting. We 
are not separated forever. Perhaps ye remember 
me in yon happier regions, as I remember you 
here below. For me this life has no longer any 
attractions. I have no rest, no joy, but with you ; 
my every wish follows you into the better world. 
And ye, O ye blessed ones ! perhaps ye smile at 
my grief as glorified spirits smile, knowing how 
near is the hour of reunion. Ye. smile as does 
the husband, who after long absence from his be- 
loved spouse, draws nigh unknown to her, and 
while she is still lamenting over the separation. 

Ah ; when shall I again embrace you ? When 
shall I cease to sigh? When shall I again, in 
intimate and eternal union with you, praise 'the 
Lord and Creator for our ineffable bliss? Even 
the remembrance of our life on this earth will 
still be dear to us ; for here we found each other ; 
here it was that God gave us to each other ; here 
our souls blended with each other ! 

O God, thou art love ! Why do I continue 



842 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

to weep for the dead ? They have gone to thee, 
and I shall see the blessed ones again ! To those 
who have faith in thy fatherly love, even the 
pain of waiting becomes a sweet enjoyment. 
Calmly I bide the hour when thou wilt lead 
me in to the dear ones. With rapturous delight 
I look forward to an eternity of bliss, and with 
thankfulness I look up to Him who has prepared 
this happiness for me from the beginning of all 
things. 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

Sixth Meditation. 



REUNION. 

Ah, no ! The universe is not a dream ; 

This life is not a fragment cast aside ; 
Each is a part of the eternal scheme, 

By which a better life to this is tied. 
Departed spirits do but soar above ; 
The lost on earth, the dear ones whom we love, 

Wait till we stand, uprisen, by their side. 

O, blessed promise, which the Saviour gave, 
Thou fillest us with rapture, ever-growing 

Thou shinest over every loved one's grave 

On which our sorrowing tears are sadly flowing. 

Thou guidest our weary souls along the road 

That leads us heavenward, through faith, to God, 
And to a union which no end is knowing. 

(Eevelation iii. 21.) 

^HOU art taught by the revelations 
of Jesus ; by the voice of the past 
sounding through a thousand years ; 
\ by the evidences in nature, from the 
grain of sand to the glittering star ; and by thy 
inward monitor, thy conscience. Thou confess- 
est: Yes, there is a God! an almighty, all-holy, 




344 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

all-just Being, who created the universe, and who 
directs the lifeless forces in it ; who, as the Eter- 
nal Spirit, loves all spirits as his children; who 
does not repent of what he created in his om- 
niscience ; who does not destroy the least grain 
of sand in Ins creation, and much less the no- 
bler energies in it, — the human spirits which 
are capable of conceiving God and honoring 
him. 

Thou confessest that there is a God, and in so 
doing thou confessest that immortality must neces- 
sarily be the destiny of oar souls ! 

But if thy soul be immortal, thou canst not but 
admit that, in some way or other, consciousness 
must be retained after death. For not to be 
aware of thy identity is the same as annihilation. 
Or not to know that thou art the same that 
existed previously, and how thou didst exist, is 
not continuance, but a new beginning, — a new 
creation. 

Were we not to be conscious after death of our 
previous existence, our goodness, our nobility of 
soul, the sacrifices made by us on earth, would 
all be useless. For of what avail would be a 
reward in the next world, an amelioration in 
our condition, if that which led to it had been 
forgotten? Or why should our sins be judged 
on high, why should retributive justice be meted 
out to us in the degradation of our spirits, if 
we are not aware of how we have merited our 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 345 

punishment, our degradation ? Retribution in the 
next world would be meaningless, rewards and 
punishments after death might as well be so many 
acts of injustice, or at least be called so. Virtue 
here on earth, the improvement of the soul, vice, 
its degradation, would — if there be no connec- 
tion between this life and the next — be almost a 
matter of indifference. Whoever believes in the 
perfect justice of God, whoever believes in the 
absolute holiness of God, must also believe in a 
true continuation of the spirit life ; i. e. in a con- 
tinuance without interruption, in an intimate spirit- 
ual connection between the here and the here- 
after. 

Such a connection, however, is impossible, un- 
less the soul retain the consciousness of its previous 
existence. The soul, when once emancipated 
from the imperfect earthly coil which often im- 
peded its activity, may perhaps in the next world 
develop a vigor of which, in our present state, 
we can form no conception. Thus in the dreams 
of the old man while his body sleeps, memories 
from his youth, or his early manhood, which in 
his waking state he had completely forgotten, are 
often revived with wonderful distinctness. 

This belief in the connection between the fu- 
ture state and the present has not only at all times 
prevailed among all nations which have emerged 
from the first stage of barbarism, but Jesus, the 
Divine Man, also shadowed it forth in that first 

15* 



346 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

parable in which he endeavors to impress upon 
men the coming of a day of retribution. (Mat- 
thew xxv. 31 - 46.) He introduces the righteous, 
and puts these words into their mouth : " Lord, 
when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or 
thirsty, and gave thee drink? " Yes ; Jesus who 
was filled with divine wisdom, and to whom 
divine revelations were vouchsafed, hath declared 
to us mortals, not only the undying nature of 
our souls, but also the uninterrupted continuance 
of the consciousness of our acts. But this con- 
tinuance of consciousness is not possible, unless 
we retain the remembrance also of those persons 
with whom we have been intimately connected on 
earth. For the greater number of our actions 
have had reference to them ; they have induced 
our virtues and our vices ; they have been the 
objects of our love or of our hatred, of our gen- 
erosity or of our malignity, of our mercy or of 
our cruelty. 

To the earthly understanding which knows 
only earthly means it may indeed be difficult to 
comprehend how and in what way the recognition 
between those whom God's love bound together 
in this world by the ties of affection shall take 
place in the next. But is it not folly to reject a 
thing as were it not, merely because with our lim- 
ited earthly faculties we are unable to conceive or 
to imagine it? Must not the higher beings, if 
they be witnesses of our weakness and our con- 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 347 

ceit, smile at our folly, as we smile at the igno- 
rance of the savage, who refuses to believe in the 
possibility of men communicating their intimate 
thoughts to each other in full detail, without be- 
ing in presence of each other, and without the 
aid of the voice ? He also mocks at any one 
who tells him, " There are men who possess 
higher minds and greater cultivation than we ; 
they can communicate and make themselves intel- 
ligible to each other, though separated by thou- 
sands of miles, though mountains, seas, rivers, 
and deserts intervene between them." And 
when he is told of the art of letter-writing, he 
takes it for supernatural sorcery. 

Is not the relation in which we stand to our 
future more exalted state, and to our present 
comprehension of it, very much the same as that 
in which the savage stands to us ? 

The belief in the recognition of, and reunion 
with, our beloved ones of this world in the future 
existence beyond the grave, is coincident with the 
belief in true immortality. We cannot separate 
the one from the other without at once destroying 
our conception of the perfection and love of God. 
Therefore, though our ideas of the future life 
may be very imperfect, and indeed they cannot 
be otherwise, let us remain satisfied with vague 
fore shado wings of what will be our destiny there. 
We are but children ; let us, then, think of, and 
believe in, that future existence with childlike 



348 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

simplicity. For that which will take place when 
the corruptible shall put on incorruption, that no 
mortal can conceive, no human language express. 

Yet the influence of the thought of immortality 
and of reunion in eternity on the heart is such, 
that we cannot but desire frequently to occupy 
ourselves with it. Our Divine Master did not in 
vain give us a conception of it. We shall recog- 
nize each other, and our deeds shall cleave to us. 
He distinctly tells us this in his description of the 
great day of judgment and retribution. " "Where 
have we seen thee ? Where have we had an op- 
portunity of doing good to thee ? " inquire the 
righteous and the sinners in the parable ; and the 
answer is : " Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as 
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye have done it unto me." (Matt. xxv. 
40.) 

The thought of reunion in eternity has, as I 
have said, a powerful influence on our moral life. 
What wonder is it that those who cannot look 
forward to this reunion otherwise than as a mo- 
ment of indescribable terror, should try to destroy 
their own belief in it ? What wonder is it that 
those who cannot dwell on the idea without shud- 
dering, should prefer to exert their intellect to 
the utmost to find plausible arguments against its 
truth, — should prefer to live in contradiction with 
their own reason, with their own conceptions of 
the power, greatness, wisdom, and justice of God, 
rather than admit this truth ? 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 349 

But not what man wills, not what he chooses, 
will take place, but what the Eternal God wills, 
that which he has pre-ordained in the harmonious 
organization of the universe, that which he has 
revealed to us by general and unmistakable intui- 
tions, that which he has declared to us through 
his holy Word. 

Yea, frivolous mother and unprincipled father, 
ye shall stand face to face again with the children 
whom ye neglected, whom ye left in such shame- 
ful ignorance, that vice sprung up in their hearts 
as weeds spring up in the uncleansed soil. You 
will recognize them in their degraded state, and 
their crimes will rise up in judgment against 
you, even yon side the grave, — for it was your 
guilty neglect that left their young hearts to go 
astray. 

And thou who here on earth, in thy base self- 
ishness, art a world and a God to thyself; who, 
entertaining supreme indifference towards thy fel- 
low-men, thinkest only of thyself, and esteemest 
those fools who labor disinterestedly for others, 
or perhaps even sacrifice part of their own happi- 
ness to secure that of their fellow-creatures ; who 
wilt thou meet in eternity? Thou who never 
thoughtest of others, but only of thyself, wh<? 
wilt thou meet to give to thee those thanks that 
are due to virtue ? No one ! Thou wilt stand 
alone in the better world, alone and unloved, a 
stranger to all who surround thee. No loving 



350 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

soul is there yearning for thy presence. Thou 
art one of those who have had their reward. For 
thou didst selfishly stipulate and receive thy pay- 
ment for whatever good thou mayest have done 
on earth. When thou gavest alms, when thou 
didst found charitable institutions, or contribute 
thy mite to undertakings for the benefit of the 
commonwealth, it was with a desire to gain favor 
in the eyes of the world, it was with a view to 
reaping honors in return. Thou hast passed 
through life without love, without friendship, be- 
cause thou believedst all other men to be as 
selfish and as basely interested as thyself, — with- 
out love, without friendship, thou shalt enter the 
ranks of the immortals, and stand alone among 
the blessed. 

We shall meet again in eternity ! Tremble, 
covetous wretch and heartless profligate, who 
have despoiled the unprotected widow and help- 
less orphans, or squandered in dissipation the sums 
which pious forefathers bequeathed for the as- 
sistance of the indigent and unfortunate. Know 
that every sigh your hard-heartedness has drawn 
from those you have oppressed has been heard 
by the omnipresent God! Know that the tears 
which some poor innocent has shed in secret at 
your injustice have been seen by an omniscient 
God! And these sighs will be counted out to 
you, and the tears measured before you. You 
will meet again the unhappy victims whom you 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 351 

deceived with impunity here helow. In the next 
world your deeds of darkness will be dragged 
into broad daylight. Your hypocrisy will be 
of no avail yonder, where the All-Just One 
reigns and judges. Delude yourselves on earth, 
delude others as well; but in the end no delu- 
sion can prevail ! Proclaim, while here on earth, 
there is no God, no eternity, no reunion ! Even 
here, the voice of conscience, in serious moments, 
contradicts the subtle falsehood ; even here, your 
guilty hearts palpitate at the fearful thought; 
but God is, and yon side the grave is eternity, 
where judgment, and the spirits of those you have 
wronged, await you ! Your intellectual subtlety, 
your loud denial, cannot destroy eternal truth. 

God, eternity, judgment, and meeting again 
of spirits ! Listen to this, shameless voluptuary ; 
and turn pale at the possibility, tremble at the 
reality! Listen to this, deceitful seducer of inno- 
cence ; listen to this, father of poor, abandoned, 
despised orphans, on whom thou hast bestowed 
life, poverty, and shame ; thou shalt meet them 
again ! Those whom thou hast disowned in this 
world, those whom here on earth thou madest the 
companions of wretchedness and despair, shall wit- 
ness against thee in eternity ! Merciless father 
and seducer, there is a God and a day of retribu- 
tion ; and that day will find thee without consola- 
tion. The innocence that fell a victim to thy 
lusts, and which was by thee given over to perdi- 



352 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

tion and everlasting tears of despair, shall witness 
against thee ! 

The thoughts of those who have known each 
other on earth meeting again in eternity, fills the 
sinner's heart with dismay ; but in vain the soul, 
conscious of its own guilt, resists the conviction. 
To the holier spirits only is the thought welcome ; 
only to virtuous minds it brings unutterably sweet 
hopes. It gives them a vivid sense of the un- 
dying nature of nobility of soul, of their own 
dignity, and of their high destination. It renders 
life less burdensome to them, and sweetens the 
hour of death. It strengthens then' endeavors 
to grow in virtue, and their power to overcome 
evil. They understand the meaning of the sacred 
words : " He that overcometh shall not be hurt 
of the second death." (Rev. ii. 11.) 

Righteous old man, who with failing powers art 
tottering towards the end of thy career, weary, 
and longing for rest, — thou art happy ! Thou 
knowest what awaits thee ; thou knowest what 
thou leavest ! What happiness has earth still for 
thee ? Thy senses are blunted ; thy spirit can no 
longer work through them, no longer reveal itself 
through them with the same power. Thus also 
in the old fruit-tree, though the wonderful vital 
force (the soul of the tree) is present in unabated 
vigor, the delicate vessels and tubes through which 
the nourishing sap, drawn from the earth, is sent 
upwards through every branch and twig, have 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 353 

become time-worn and hardened. Therefore, 
though the branches are still clad in verdure, 
the leaves are sparse, and the tree bears neither 
bloom nor fruit. 

Thou hast almost become a stranger on earth. 
The playfellows of thy youth have long since de- 
parted, all thy best friends thou hast survived, — 
even the greater number of the faithful compan- 
ions of thy later years are in the grave. They 
have gone to rest, and thy dust will soon repose 
by the side of theirs. 

But beyond the grave is thy fatherland ; there 
reunion with all the beloved of thy soul awaits 
thee ; there thou wilt be surrounded by the angels 
of thy childhood; there thou wilt behold once 
more the smile of the beings thou lovedst so ten- 
derly here below, but whose eyes thou sawest 
grow dim in death. Soon thy disenthralled spirit 
will speed to meet them, exclaiming, with exult- 
ant joy : " Blessed am I ! I have fought a good 
fight ; blessed be the ineffable love of the eternal 
Father of spirits ! " 

We shall meet again ! Youth and maiden, 
righteous children of righteous parents, who la- 
ment over the death of father and mother, you 
will meet them again ! The love of these parents 
was what you valued most on earth. When cares 
oppressed you, your father's affectionate solicitude ' 
soon relieved you of the burden ; when sorrow 
weighed upon you, your tender mother knew how 



354 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

to alleviate it. They have been called away from 
you ; but yet a little while and they will be re- 
stored to you. 

There is a way that leads to them, often full of 
thorns, and wearisome to wander, but unfailing. 
This is the way which Jesus indicated to his be- 
loved disciples, that they might find him again. 
It is the path of virtue, of holy sentiments, and 
deeds. Never depart from this heavenly path, 
never be unfaithful to the memory of your par- 
ents. 

When your youthful blood glows with unwonted 
passions ; when vice approaches you in seductive 
garb ; when turbulent desires lead you into peril- 
ous temptations ; when a moment comes in which 
you feel yourselves wavering between innocence 
and guilt, between generosity and meanness ; 
when all good resolves seem to abandon you ; 
when even the voice of religion has lost its power 
over your hearts, — O then think of the beloved 
deceased and of your future meeting with them, 
and you will recover your dignity, and resume 
your allegiance to virtue ! 

Remember the beloved ones who have gone 
before you, and your future reunion with them, 
when you are praying in the house of God, and 
when at your daily avocations. Remember them 
when you are quaffing the cup of pleasure, when 
you are engaged in the turmoil of business, and 
when depressed by misfortune, — and you will 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 355 

not lose sight of the path that leads to them ! 
Love is an invisible spiritual bond ; it reaches 
across the grave into the happy regions of the 
better world ; it knits together kindred souls on 
earth and in heaven, in like manner as the love 
of God embraces the entire universe, and upholds 
and blesses it. 

Remember the beloved ones and your reunion 
with them whenever an opportunity offers to per- 
form a noble deed, to do good to an enemy, to 
rebuke the evil-speaking of a slanderer, to help a 
poor and suffering family, to originate some under- 
taking of a generally useful character, — you will 
then fight the good fight for the crown of life, 
and your guardian angels will rejoice, for eternity 
is opening its portals to you. 

We shall be reunited ! Dry your tears, O 
father or mother, who art weeping for a beloved 
and promising child, and thou also, lonely widow, 
sorrowing in solitude ; cease to grieve, sister, for 
thy much-regretted brother, or brother for thy 
sister ; friend, mourn no longer for the friend torn 
from thy bosom. Close all wounds that torture 
tender hearts ! The dead are still alive. We 
are not parted forever. Reunion awaits us all ! 

Divinely revealed truth, be my blessed comfort 
evermore. I also have lost what I loved. I also, 
when in solitude, weep for the sweetest joys of 
my life, which have descended into the grave. 
Into the grave ? Ah, no ; for it was not the clay 



356 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 

that I loved, but the soul, which smiled to me 
through the gentle eyes, and which spoke the 
words of tenderness that sounded from the elo- 
quent lips. And this soul still lives, for God 
lives. It still loves, for God loves. O heavenly 
thought ! I am still cherished by my dear ones 
in the better world, with a purer, nobler, and 
more tender affection than here in the dust. 

Ye love me, O ye dear ones, for whom my 
tears flow, whom my love follows yon side the 
grave. Love me, and the grave cannot separate 
us. How can it separate those whom God united 
here below in such tender bonds ? My sadness 
is not the fruit of doubt, but of my longing for 
you. We shall be with each other again in that 
blessed land, where there is no sorrow and no 
parting, but only perfection and bliss inexpressi- 
ble. The Creator made us for each other, and 
he created us not only for this earthly life, but for 
eternal existence. In this world he only allowed 
us, as it were, to catch a glimpse of each other, 
that we might aspire the more ardently towards 
our higher goal. He attached our hearts to 
heaven, not only by the bonds of faith, but like- 
wise by those of love. 

Yes ; on the other side the grave, not here 
on earth, is my real fatherland, my true home. 
Towards the land where my loved ones dwell, 
turn my tearful eyes ; to it ascend my devout 
thoughts, my sacred vows. Yes ; though abiding 



INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 357 

on earth, I will live for eternity ; among mortals 
I will live for the immortal ones who have gone 
before me. If there be a sin cleaving to me, I 
will cleanse myself of it. If there be an impure 
desire poisoning my heart, I will banish it forth- 
with. If there be a wrong that I have commit- 
ted, I will repair it. If there be a fellow-being 
whom I have offended, I will seek reconciliation. 
We shall, we must, be reunited. O God, I 
thank thee for thy overflowing grace and mercy. 
What return can I make ? I feel my poverty, 
my impotence ; but I feel also that through thee, 
my God, my Eternal Father, the universe is blest. 
I will seek solitude, I will fall down before thee, 
with mingled tears of sadness and joy, and my 
sighs and my tears shall glorify thee in silence. 



MEMORIAL FESTIVAL OF OUR TRI- 
UMPH OVER DEATH. 



Yes ; thou shalt rise again, my dust, more blest 
After thy hasty rest. 
Undying life to live, 
Will He who made thee give. 
Praised be he ! 

Sown but to bloom again once more, was I. 
The Harvest Lord goes by ; 
He gathers in the sheaves, 
JJor thiue, nor mine he leaves : 
Praised be he ! 

O day of gratitude ! day of bliss ! 
God's own best day is this, 
Which, my short slumber o'er, 
From the cold grave once more 
Shall waken me. 

How like a dream will it then seem to me ; 
With Jesus shall I be, 
In all his joys I share, 
Each weary pilgrim care 
Is past for me. 

0, to the Holiest, my Redeemer, lead, — 
Then shall I live indeed 
In sanctity, there raise 
My voice, his name to praise, 
Forevermore ! 



(Luke xxiv. 5, 6.) 




OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 359 

)HY seek ye the living among the dead? 

asked the angels of the sorrowing 

women who came to the sepulchre 

of the Saviour ; " He is not here, 

(Luke xxiv. 5, 6.) 

He is risen ! The disciples heard the tidings, 
and a thrill of awe and joy passed through their 
souls, and courage revived in the hearts of the 
timid among them, who, since the death of their 
Lord, had been roaming about like sheep that 
have lost their shepherd. 

He is risen ! The persecutors and murderers 
of the Messiah heard it, and were terror-stricken. 
They refused to believe in the miracle. They 
endeavored to put it down by audacious falsehood. 
They asserted that his disciples had stolen away 
the dead body. But in vain was their clamor ! 
The living Christ appeared before his followers ; 
he appeared in the land of Galilee. He is risen ! 
cried the exultant heavens ; and all times, all 
centuries to come, will repeat the joyful cry. 

My soul also rejoices that he is risen. His 
triumph is my triumph ; his victory over death 
and the grave is also mine ; his life is my life. 
The festival of his wonderful resurrection from 
the grave and from corruption is also the memo- 
rial feast of my fuljire elevation above the world 
and death, when the corruptible shall put on in- 
corruption, and the mortal the immortal. 

His resurrection completed the work of the 



360 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 

Messiah on earth. He had lived, taught, and 
performed good deeds ; the holy seed of God was 
sown, but the soil was still untilled, the growth 
of the seed uncertain. Christ was still misjudged 
by many; the purpose of his coming was not 
understood, even by his most intimate friends. 
They hoped that he had come to found an earthly 
throne ; to restore the kingdom of David ; to free 
them from the dominion of Rome ; to establish 
the rule and the power of the Jews over all the 
nations of the earth. This was their hope. Yet 
the Messiah had said, " My kingdom is not of 
this world." 

He was doomed to suffering and death, to seal 
the truth of Ins doctrine with his blood, to fall a 
willing victim for the sins of the world, and to 
bring the sacrificial worship of the Hebrews to an 
end by his death. He suffered the death of the 
World-Redeemer. His blood was, as it were, re- 
quired to make the seeds of godliness germinate, 
which he had sown in the rough soil of the human 
heart. 

But his work was not finished. With him died 
the courage of his first followers. 

Their bright dreams of earthly power and 
splendor were destroyed, and with them also 
their hopes and prospects. 

His death had rendered incomprehensible to 
them what he had taught and prophesied. The 
life of the Messiah had become a mystery to them, 



OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 361 

their own destination a secret. That which had 
been begun was not completed, but was broken 
off. Gloomy doubts obscured their souls, as the 
night of the sepulchre hid the corpse of their 
Divine Master. 

Just then the tidings broke upon them : He is 
risen ! And, lo ! a new day dawned upon them. 
The mystery that clothed his words was at once 
solved ; they comprehended his prophecies ; they 
understood his divinity. Full of holy enthusiasm, 
they responded to his call. Now, shame and 
honor, life and death, were as naught to them 
when compared to the message he had given 
them to deliver. The seed of God, which he 
had sown, began to sprout vigorously. His res- 
urrection acted on it like the breath of spring. 
Death had vanished ; hell was vanquished ; hu- 
manity was reconciled to God ; the heavenly 
kingdom of spirits founded ; he had finished ! 
Thus the festival of the resurrection of Jesus 
became the first and most sacred festival of the 
Christians, and at the same time a memorial feast 
of their own redemption, through Jesus. Let us 
keep the feast, said they ; let us do it in remem- 
brance of the purification from sin, of which we 
are made capable, through his word ; let us cast 
away every vicious tendency that desecrates us. 
For as a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump, 
so doth the smallest sin dishonor and desecrate 
the whole dignity of man. " Therefore, let us 

16 



362 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 

keep the feast," cries St. Paul, " not with old 
leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and 
wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of 
sincerity and truth." (1 Cor. v. 8.) 

As Jesus finished his task, so will I finish mine. 
As he completed the redemption of a world from 
the fetters of sin and error, so will I complete 
my sanctification through faith in him and in his 
word. If his life be my life, then also is his vic- 
tory my victory, his glorification my glorification, 
— then shall I not taste death. My spirit shall 
soar triumphantly above the grave and the dust 
of earth, towards heaven. 

I will seek redemption through Jesus, for in 
no one else is there salvation. To be redeemed 
through him is to become like unto him ; to be 
pure in mind, and to do good; to be free from 
every sin, and to live for God alone ; to act in 
my appointed sphere with godlike nobleness of 
soul, without selfishness, without base motives ; 
to recognize in the world of spirits my home, in 
the Creator of the boundless universe my Father, 
and my kindred in all created beings like myself, 
who lie worshipping at his feet ; to seek my hap- 
piness, not in the dust and in the fleeting things 
of this earth, but in eternity. 

Christ has risen from the dead ; he has finished 
his work. I also shall rise again, and shall com- 
plete my work. If I five in the spirit of Jesus, 
the grave has no terrors for me. The grave can 



OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 363 

only hold my corpse ; my corpse is dust and ashes ; 
dust and ashes in themselves have no life ; but 
the soul is life ; therefore my soul cannot die. 

Cannot die ? Not so ! Did not Jesus himself 
say, " Fear not those who would kill the body, 
but those who would kill the soul " ? And what 
is the death of the soul ? Sin. 

Where there is sin, there the lusts of the body 
prevail ; there reason is silent ; there the con- 
science is stifled ; there the activity of the spirit 
is paralyzed ; there is death. Sin is the death of 
the spirit. In like manner as a dead human body 
is insensible to all influences that may be brought 
to bear upon it, so is the spirit when vice has con- 
quered. As the dead body is without strength, 
so also the spirit loses its power when the brute 
instincts are triumphant. As the dead body is 
without a will, so also the spirit loses all freedom, 
where passions, such as worldly ambition, luxuri- 
ousness, voluptuousness, covetousness, and malice, 
prevail. 

Therefore is sin the death of the spirit ! And 
can a spirit, that has not lived a true life on earth, 
continue to live when its body dies ? Does it not 
sleep the eternal sleep ? Will it not be as if it 
had never existed ? 

It is from that death that Jesus has rescued us 
by his doctrine, not from the death of the body. 
This death we must all die. But when we sanc- 
tify ourselves, that is-, when we purify ourselves 



364 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 

from all vicious tendencies, from all animal and 
sinful desires, our spirits imbibe eternal life in 
vigorous draughts. The death of the body is not 
the death of the soul. If, then, a perfect soul, 
after the example of Jesus, does not die, of what 
importance is the decay of our bodies ? We live ! 
what matters it that the earthly coil which clings 
to us should fall away ? We live, and live through 
the word of Jesus ; and we may exclaim with 
rapture : Where is thy sting, O death ? O hell, 
where is thy victory ? Praised be God, who has 
given us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ ! 

If sin be the death of the soul, then virtue, or 
likeness to God, must be its life. Every infrac- 
tion of the divine laws is a death-wound inflicted 
on the spirit, and every deed pleasant in the sight 
of God is a quickening of our spiritual life. 

And thus I understand when it is said, that the 
wages of sin are death ! When it is said, that 
Christ saved us from death, by showing us the 
way of life. Yes ; he has saved us from death, 
by showing us the way of life ; by pointing out to 
us our high destination, and teaching us to know 
our own dignity ; by affording us the surest 
means to reach perfection : his own example ; 
and by bidding us deny ourselves and our sinful 
desires, and follow him. Therefore, using figura- 
tive language, he called himself our way to life. 

Christ has risen ! He has finished gloriously 



OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 365 

his divine mission ; he has conquered death for 
me, if in my life I do show forth his merits and 
his holiness, and avoid sin, which is spiritual death. 

As Christ had not finished until his task on 
earth was completed, until the grave and death 
had been conquered, until his disciples had been 
consecrated, and he had returned to his Father ; 
so shall I not have finished until I have reached 
the end of my career. As long as I remain on 
earth my existence will be a constant wrestling 
with sin, a constant struggle with death. Not 
until I have reached the end will it be proved 
whether my spirit has conquered death and sin, 
whether I have fought the good fight, whether I 
have won the promised palm of life. How long 
shall this struggle still endure ? When shall I 
rejoice in my victory over death and sin ? 

However long it may be, I will hold fast my 
faith, and shall not weary. " For he that over- 
come th, saith the Lord, shall inherit all things, 
and I will be his God and he shall be my son." 
(Rev. xxi. 7.) And however long my struggle 
may still endure, the festival of the Messiah's 
completion of his work shall be to me a reminder 
of the victory I also must win. Ah, that I might 
be able each time I celebrate thy victory, O 
Saviour, to celebrate also my triumph over death 
and sin ! 

Blessed are ye, O glorified spirits, who have 
already overcome ! O ye beloved of Jesus ! ye 



366 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 

saints of God ! in solemn silence I will celebrate 
the memory of your triumph also. Ye have 
fought the fight; I am still wrestling with sin. 
Ye are rejoicing, having reached the goal ; I am 
still weeping at my shortcomings. 

Blessed are ye, ye have conquered death in 
Jesus, and with Jesus ! The resurrection of the 
Lord became your resurrection. He has risen ; 
he lives ; and ye live with him. 

He lives ! He is risen ! The heavenly assur- 
ance that this gives us, that we also shall rise from 
the dead, quickens the wounded hearts of the dis- 
consolate mourners who despair at their lost joys. 
To us also God has promised immortal life ; our 
souls shall not be victims of the grave. 

He lives ! he is risen ! O disconsolate father, 
why walkest thou so sad and un sympathizing 
among thy fellow-men, seeking the child of whom 
death has robbed thee ? O mother, why dost 
thou weep on the tomb of thy darling, calling him 
by his name, and asking the silent and myste- 
rious grave to give him back to thee ? Why, O 
mourners, do ye seek the living among the dead ? 
Those ye love are not there ; they are in the 
bosom of the Father ! Celebrate cheerfully the 
Easter festival. It is the festival of the Resurrec- 
tion, and of the remembrance of our victory over 
death. Father, mother, think of this ! There is 
no wall of separation between life and eternity ; 
there is no real separation from those ye so ten- 



derly loved. Your child lives. Ye also shall 
live hereafter, for Jesus lives, God lives. There 
is no death, except through sin. 

He lives ! he is risen ! Unhappy husband, why 
pinest thou to descend into the silent tomb, where 
she sleeps who was thy noblest possession on 
earth, thy all in all ? Her dust rests there, it is 
true. But why seekest thou the living among 
the dead ? The grave is not the home of her 
spirit, which was born to eternal life. Its home 
is in the bosom of God. God is with you ; how, 
then, are you separated ? She lives, and thou 
livest, and God embraces you both. Fight out 
thy fight, O mourner ! the apparent separation 
will not be for long. Celebrate cheerfully the 
Easter festival. It is the feast of the Resurrec- 
tion, and of our own victory over death. 

He lives ! he is risen ! Yet thou, O lonely 
widow, thou still lamentest with stubborn grief 
over thy departed husband? Thou, O desolate 
maiden, askest the grave to give up the loved one 
whom it tore from thy bleeding heart? Thou, 
brother, still grievest for the sister who faded in 
early youth? Thou, sister, weepest bitter tears 
over a brother gone to rest? Whom seek ye, 
then, in the grave, my friends? Why seek ye 
the living among the dead ? They are not there ; 
they are with God. Celebrate cheerfully and 
trustingly the Easter festival, — the festival of 
the Resurrection, and of our victory over death. 



368 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 

Christ lives ! He is risen ! I also shall live 
and be with God. Jesus' resurrection is my 
resurrection, because his life is to be my life. 
We are not the prey of the grave ! O ye who 
have already overcome, and ye who will one day 
overcome, we are all God's children? Why 
should we despair? 

O'er earth and time, my soul mount nigh, 
O'er death and o'er mortality, 

Upraise thee, trembling soul. 
Thy fatherland is there, in heaven ; 
The resurrection was but given 

To lead thee to thy goal. 
E'en here, amidst the wreck of death, 
The higher nature gleams beneath. 

Dry leaves are all thou look'st on here, 
'T is dust of dust that fills the bier, — 

Thy brother's earthly shell. 
The fragile shell may broken be, 
And waste away ; but not o'er thee 

Prevails the grave's dark spell. 
Free from the burden of fife's pain, 
Thy high reward awaits thee. then. 

The Father's love thou then wilt see, 
His love will comprehended be, 

His foresight wilt thou reach. 
Creation's vast unbounded scheme, 
The countless myriad worlds that gleam, 

Will all his wisdom teach. 
Bright midst the starry host divine 
Shall the new earth and heaven outshine. 



OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 369 

Then, full of joy and reverence deep, 
To-day thy resurrection keep 

With Christ, — thy life, thy light. 
The blessed hope of Heaven regained, 
The endless, Godlike life attained, 

In his own holy height. 
Was not Christ's coining but for this : 
Man to perfect, and win us bliss ? 




16* 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 



He left, with honor crowned, his rock-hewn tomb, 
And God was reconciled to man. The gloom, 

The curse, from Mount Sinai has passed by. 
Instead of death, he gave us life above ; 
Instead of wrath, he gave us heavenly love, 

And confidence through his own victory. 
He, he alone, fulfilled it in that hour, — 
The work of grace, of mercy, and of power : 

All praise unto the resurrection be ! 
Death may appear, 
We know no fear, 

O Death-Destroyer, for we follow thee ! 

Shout, shout aloud to God with joyful voice ! 
Let the whole universe in praise rejoice, 

The conquest has been gained, the battle *s done, 
All that was dim and doubtful is made clear, 
God's will is spoken so that all may hear, 

He, the Most Holy, has the victory won. 
Shall I not, then, with stronger courage bear 
The galling weight of earthly grief and care 1 

Can what God loveth ever be cast down ? 
Eaise thine eyes 
Unto the skies 

And know, the Eternal cannot be o'erthrown. 

(Eom. viii. 28.) 

;FTER the death of Jesus, his disci- 
ples fled in fear and trembling. They 
sought solitude to weep over the death 
of their Divine Master, and also con- 
cealment from the sanguinary cruelty of the 




THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 371 

Jews. And in the first bitterness of their sorrow 
at the loss of their dearly beloved friend, many 
doubts probably arose in their breast. I seem to 
hear their complaints : " Jesus, our Divine Mas- 
ter, fell a victim to cruel murderers. How could 
God forsake the beloved One who called himself 
his Son ? How could the Most Holy allow the 
base multitude to point the finger of scorn at the 
Holy One? Who will venture to be virtuous 
and just, if virtue and justice lead to the felon's 
doom, while vice triumphs and prospers? Is 
there a Judge on high, and yet he is silent ? Is 
there an all-loving God in the universe, and yet 
he permits the innocent to suffer painfully for 
deeds of which he has not been guilty ? Permits 
him to suffer without succor, without alleviation, 
without consolation ? Does God dissever the 
sacred bonds of love which his own hand has 
woven, and does he leave hearts to bleed to death 
of wounds which have been inflicted oecause they 
trusted in him ? " 

But on the third day the strange rumor spread 
through the land : The crucified has risen ! The 
unjust rulers, the murderers, were seized with 
terror ; but endeavored to allay their fears by 
doubts and denial. The friends of Jesus heard 
the tidings, and, though still doubting, they were 
filled with gladness. They afterwards beheld 
their Master like one glorified, and with feelings 
of devotional joy and awe they stammered forth, 



372 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

" My Lord and my God ! " (John xx. 28.) 
Holiness had triumphed. 

Jesus had won the great victory ; his innocence 
had triumphed gloriously over all his past suf- 
ferings; the Divine character of his revelations 
*was made wonderfully manifest to those who still 
required such a test. Treachery, persecution, 
crucifixion, death, and the grave had proved of 
no avail. They had only been permitted that they 
might swell the triumph of the eternal Son. And 
thus, in this superlative instance also, we behold, 
as in a great picture, the manifestation of the 
blissful truth, which the Holy Scriptures hold 
forth to us to this day : " We know that all things 
work together for good to them that love God." 
(Rom. viii. 28.) That which is holy must ulti- 
mately be triumphant. 

But what is holiness in the spiritual world ? I 
will tell thee. It is immaculate purity ! It is 
that which maintains itself in its native simplicity 
without any admixture of things which do not 
belong to it. Therefore, that mind must be called 
holy in which only the purest virtue dwells, and 
no passion, no tendency to sin. Consequently, 
the spirit may be said to be sanctified when it is 
unstained by anything earthly, when it is not 
swayed by the influences of the body, but deter- 
mines and guides itself solely by its indwelling 
Divine laws. Such a spirit is sure of attaining 
the highest good ; it approaches daily towards 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 373 

perfection. Purity is indestructible, eternal ; only 
that which is mixed, compounded of various ele- 
ments, is perishable, for it ultimately dissolves 
again into the elements of which it is composed. 

This truth holds good of the living and of the 
dead. It is a law of nature. Everything in the 
world which we perceive through our senses is 
composed of simple substances. As soon as these 
combine, their purity is alloyed. But when, as 
compound substances, they are destroyed, they 
immediately return to their primitive purity. 
Thus gold is valuable in proportion to its purity. 
In vain is every attempt to destroy it by fire. 
The ashes of burnt wood can never again become 
wood ; but gold, when subjected to the action of 
fire, only throws off the dross that is mixed with 
it, and comes out of the crucible purer and more 
valuable than before. The same is the case with 
a holy mind when it passes through the purifying 
fire of earthly tribulation. It throws off the sen- 
suous desire for honors, wealth, and other enjoy- 
ments, which may still cling to it, and comes forth 
purer and holier, and with intensified conscious- 
ness of its own spotlessness. 

Holiness wins the victory. The history of all 
times and all nations proclaims it. Many errors 
have prevailed since the beginning of the world ; 
but they disappear gradually as men learn to know 
truth. No error can endure forever ; while, on the 
other hana\ since the beginning of time no truth has 



374 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

ever perished. Each truth acquired is handed 
down from generation to generation as a precious 
treasure, and one century inherits it from another. 
No doubt it may at times be obscured by passing 
errors, as is the sun by passing clouds. But the 
clouds are no part of the sun, and truth remains 
ever distinct from error. It has, therefore, each 
time come forth the more majestically from out 
of the dark mists of ignorance. Human violence 
may indeed do much to impede its progress, — 
may silence men's tongues by fear, so that they 
venture not to declare the truth, and may perse- 
cute it even unto death. But it lives on in noble 
minds, though all lips be mute ; for though tongues 
may be restrained, thought cannot be coerced. 
The spirit is free within the realm of thought. 
It scorns the impotence of man ; and on the grave 
of many a persecutor, Truth has, with undying 
energy, once more reared her divine banner. 

Holy as truth is goodness. The history of the 
world bears witness to it. The good that has 
happened on earth has been followed by blessed 
and lasting consequences. For only that which 
is good and just is in harmony with nature and 
with the soul. Evil, on the contrary, is in antago- 
nism with the entire creation. Crime has indeed 
often been clad in royal purple, and has often 
trampled on innocence with impunity. But the 
purple has mouldered away, the crime remained a 
crime, and from the blood of the persecuted inno- 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 375 

cence has arisen a triumphant avenger. In vain 
vice sharpened its murderous axe, and doomed 
virtue to die in the flames ; though trembling 
cowards burnt incense before the ruthless tyrant, 
the sinner's pride was soon laid low, and the 
funeral pile of slandered innocence was changed 
into a throne of glory. 

For this reason the memory of wise and virtu- 
ous men has ever been revered even by very re- 
mote posterity. They have been the benefactors 
of entire nations and of generations of men ; 
but being misjudged and scorned either by the 
ignorance or malice of their contemporaries, they 
have too frequently been the victims of their own. 
goodness, and of the barbarity of others. But 
was the cause for which they fought therefore 
extinguished ? No ; that which was holy re- 
mained ultimately triumphant. With calm con- 
sciousness of the good they had bestowed upon 
the world, the noble spirits of these victims of 
human oppression rose purified and exultant to 
heaven, there to receive a more glorious palm of 
victory than could be won on earth. What did 
they lose by being misjudged by the world ? In 
carrying out their virtuous purposes they thought 
not of the world's applause, but acted sponta- 
neously, urged on by their inward instincts and 
aspirations. They were consoled by their firm 
conviction that they were accomplishing that 
which would tend to increase the happiness of 



376 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

mankind, and which would never be destroyed. 
And they did not deceive themselves. For that 
which is holy ever triumphs ; and posterity names 
with a blessing the men whom their contempora- 
ries condemned. 

The remembrance hereof ought to strengthen 
and elevate our minds, and to inspire us with 
courage and unswerving determination to act so 
as to gain the approval of God. In like manner 
as the wisest and noblest among our predecessors 
ever moved onward with their eyes fixed upon 
God, and trusting in the righteousness of their 
cause, so let us also uphold the cause which we 
consider good and just, and likely to diffuse hap- 
piness, though the base multitude may scoff at us, 
and accuse us of low and selfish motives, and per- 
secute and ill-treat us ; for that which is holy will 
ultimately gain the victory ! 

Be thou my example, O Christ, Friend of man ; 
thou, who in the great battle with fate didst not 
allow thyself to be led away from the divine path 
by temptations or by threats ; but didst persevere 
in love and well-doing, though surrounded by 
hatred and persecution, — be thou my example in 
action. 

Be thou also my example in patient suffering, 
thou greatest of sufferers, who, when forsaken by 
all, when betrayed by thy bosom friend, when 
thine enemies rejoiced openly at thy fall, when 
thv most faithful followers fled from before thee, 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 377 

and the most zealous denied thee, — still remained 
meek and humble, unshaken in thy sublime 
grandeur of soul, in thy heavenly virtue. 

And be my example, my strengthener in hope, 
Saviour, risen from the dead, who, in the majesty 
of thy victory, didst annihilate the powers of evil 
that arose against thee, blessed the world, glori- 
ously rewarded the devotion of thy beloved dis- 
ciples, and beheld the heavens opening to receive 
thee, while the nations of the earth lay worship- 
ping at thy feet. 

That which is holy ever remains triumphant ; 
therefore be holy. Only that which is impure 
decays and perishes ; therefore avoid all that is 
impure ! Has the voice of God, speaking through 
the marvels of nature, through human events, 
and through the holy words of revealed religion, 
no power over thy heart ? 

Be holy ; that is, be pure. Beware not to let 
sensual influences obtain too great a hold over thy 
mind, and whatever thou undertakest, let it never 
be for the sake of earthly reward. Do the good 
that thou art able to do, or that thou mayest wish 
to do, without any hope of reaping honors or riches 
in return. If thou lookest for such return, O 
verily, then thou dost but make virtue the tool of 
thy baseness, and thou must be counted among 
those of whom the Saviour said, " They have 
their reward ! " Love thy fellow-beings ; help 
them with a good- will whenever thou canst do so ; 



378 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

alleviate misery as far as it lies in thy power, 
speak well of others whenever an opportunity 
offers ; promote useful undertakings even when 
commenced by others ; but do all this, not in order 
to make thyself beloved in return, not in order to 
win a reputation, but because thou art convinced 
that what thou dost is right and good, that the 
deed is worthy of thee, that through it thou mani- 
festest that perfection which thine own conscience, 
thy God, and thy Saviour demand of thee. In act- 
ing thus, thou wilt keep thyself pure from gross 
earthly influences, thou wilt sanctify thy mind. 

Go forth and arrest the evil that others may 
be planning ; comfort the unhappy whose misfor- 
tunes thou canst not prevent ; try to promote the 
interests even of those who may have sought to 
injure thee ; convince thine enemy, by thy gener- 
ous acts towards him, that he has formed an erro- 
neous opinion of thee ; but do not these things 
from fear, but from a sense of duty, from the feel- 
ing that a true Christian cannot think and act 
otherwise. Then thy deed will be free from im- 
pure earthly alloy, and will be solely the fruit of 
the spirit called to immortality and perfection. 
To do thus is to approach the goal of holiness ; 
and that which is holy is triumphant at last ! 
Therefore persevere without ceasing in thy pure 
aspirations, and do not allow thyself to be led 
astray by any apparent disadvantages, by any 
personal annoyance, by any humiliations which 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 379 

thou mayest be subjected to in consequence. He 
who is incapable of such strength and elevation 
of soul, he will remain lost among the crowd of 
vulgar minds, and will deserve the ruin which he 
will bring upon himself by his weakness and his 
vacillation. 

All men respect in others that firmness of 
mind and strength of principle which are proof 
against every fate ; yea, even in bad men, we 
cannot at times help admiring the extraordinary 
determination and inflexibility with which they 
advance towards the end they have marked out 
for themselves. Only those persons can with 
truth be called contemptible who have no power 
over themselves, who are honest to-day, base to- 
morrow, who are ever vacillating between virtue 
and vice, sinning and repenting, and who never 
attain to any kind of self-dependence. We de- 
spise them, because in them there is no decided 
purity of will. One day they set virtue aside for 
fear of exposing themselves to the malicious ob- 
servations of senseless worldlings, another day 
they follow virtue because they think that more 
honor is to be won in this way than in following 
sin. But they succumb, for only that which is 
pure and holy ultimately triumphs in life. They 
fight no real fight against the power and influ- 
ences of the senses, for their vacillations testify 
that they are but helpless tools of their own pas- 
sions. In none of the circumstances of life do 



380 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

they show any will or spirit of their own ; what, 
then, can remain of them when in death they lose 
the body, which, with its earthly lusts, ruled 
them ? 

Only that which is holy triumphs ! Remem- 
ber, O soul, the majesty of Him who has risen 
from the dead ! When men conspire against thy 
higher principles, and give thee in return for the 
good thou hast achieved, not gratitude, but the 
curse of envy, of jealousy, and malice, — remem- 
ber him ! Adversity is only a test of thy cour- 
age, a trial of the strength of thy virtue. It is 
easy during a lovely summer evening to profess 
indifference to the inclemency of the weather, or 
while resting in the lap of peace to boast of the 
prowess we should give proof of were we to en- 
counter an enemy ; but it is in bearing up against 
storm and rain, and the sudden changes of the 
temperature, that the strong man shows his hardi- 
ness, and it is amid the sanguinary horrors of the 
battle-field that the hero proves his courage. 

He who has made up his mind to act purely 
and nobly, that is to say, to think, and speak, and 
act according to his best convictions, must be pre- 
pared to encounter many vexatious obstacles to 
the carrying out of his good intentions. For if 
all that is good and useful met with no impedi- 
ments, his arm and his heart would not be re- 
quired to promote it. 

Whoever determines to do his best in life, ac- 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 381 

cording to his convictions, — to be just, fair in all 
his dealings, truthful, and zealous for the public 
weal, — must be prepared to find numbers of per- 
sons endeavoring to oppose him. Many, simply 
because, behig of an envious disposition, they hate 
everything that is praiseworthy which they have 
not themselves projected or accomplished ; others, 
because your efforts may possibly be opposed to 
some selfish plan of theirs, cherished in secret ; 
some, again, because, being themselves without 
any inward worth, they are unable to conceive 
that others are better than themselves, and there- 
fore attribute base sentiments even to the best of 
men, and believe that the most upright acts are 
dictated by selfish motives ; again, many will op- 
pose you, not because their intentions are less 
good than your own, but because their views are 
totally different, owing to their education, their 
temperament, their outward circumstances, and 
experiences of life being different ; others, though 
they may do full justice to the purity of your in- 
tentions, will resist you, because they consider 
you a mere enthusiast. 

But if your convictions are well founded, if 
you have tried them by the test of your con- 
science, and conceive them to be in accordance 
with the will of God, and you know them to be 
pure from every admixture of passion, — if you 
firmly believe what you propound to be truth, or 
what you undertake to be for the benefit of the 



382 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

world, — then do not hesitate to remain faithful 
to yourself! For it is eternally true, that to them 
that love God, all things work for good. Every 
obstacle will but stimulate you to greater exer- 
tion, and will prevent you from relaxing in your 
efforts ; every contradiction, every objection, will 
make you reflect, and perhaps turn your atten- 
tion to points on which you have erred, or on 
which you might otherwise have gone too far. 
These impediments will therefore serve to purify 
your principles from all earthly dross, and render 
your triumph the more glorious. 

And should the storms that assail thee prove 
too violent, and thy courage and thy strength 
threaten to give way, O then think of Him who 
is risen ! God was with Christ, and God is with 
every noble soul in its greatest tribulations on 
earth ; God is with thee, because thou seekest 
him ! It is possible that thou mayest fail ; but 
what wilt thou lose ? Perhaps the fame of the 
moment, perhaps thy earthly life. But of what 
importance are these ? Do these things affect 
the sublime and immortal essence in thee which 
we call spirit ? Nay, they are but of the earth, 
earthy, and in every case vanish in death. Re- 
main faithful to thyself to the end ! The good 
man may fail, the good cause never ! 

That which is holy is triumphant at last. Jesus, 
thou who art risen from the dead ; Messiah, 
wonderful, glorified, majestic Victor over life and 



THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 383 

death, the halo which surrounds thy grave teaches 
me to see and to love this great truth. Thou 
also hast triumphed, and century proclaims it to 
century with exultant joy ; and the human race, 
blessed through thee, worship thee. 

Little did thy contemporaries think, whilst thou 
wert living among them humbly and misjudged, 
that thy name would become the object of the 
world's love and reverence. Little did they 
think, when thou wert preaching the highest 
and most sacred truths with Divine power and 
simplicity, that the words spoken by thee in re- 
mote places, to a small band of followers, would 
resound through hundreds of years from the lips 
of millions of men, in all languages, in splendid 
temples and in desert caves, in the palaces of 
kings and in the hovels of the poor. Little did 
they think when thou wert nailed, bleeding, to 
the cross, between two malefactors, and drew thy 
last sigh amid the scoffs of the malignant multi- 
tude, when the faithful doubted, and thy beloved 
ones fled in dismay ; little did they think that this 
cross would become the symbol of thy Godlike 
services to the human race, and would be raised 
as such in the burning deserts of the tropics, on 
the ice-fields of the far north, whither no warm 
sunbeams ever penetrate, on the shores of un- 
known seas, and on the cloud-capped summits 
of high mountains. 

But, strengthened by thy victory, and filled 



384 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 

with the Holy Ghost, thy disciples spread through 
all parts of the world, and proclaimed to the as- 
tonished nations the glad tidings of the kingdom 
of God. In spite of torture, chains, sword, and 
cross, they completed the great work of the 
redemption of the world. They fell victims to 
their zeal, many of them breathed then last 
under fearful sufferings ; but their cause was 
triumphant ! 

And I, Jesus Messiah, I will do as they ! I 
will purify myself of every evil tendency, of 
every weakness ; I will stand forth in word and 
deed as a perfect man, who prizes thy word and 
thy truth above all things. When occasion offers 
for serving my fellow-men, I will not first self- 
ishly consider what would be to my own ad- 
vantage, nor timidly give up what duty bids me 
do, because of the obstacles and the trouble I 
may have to encounter. In the end I shall suc- 
ceed. And my reward I carry in my bosom ; for 
that which is holy will triumph ! 



THE CONNECTION BETWEEN LIFE 
AND ETERNITY. 



When, after a few fleeting hours are past, 

Thy will is fully perfected in me, 
My earthly burden is remoyed at last, 

And from the chains of sin my soul set free, — 
The last sad tear that earth can claim is shed, 
And " dust to dust," I rest among the dead, — 

How shall I to myself, for joy, be known, 

When the dark veil is taken from mine eyes 1 

When the bright angel brotherhood shall own, 
And my glance pierces heaven's mysteries 1 

And what was sacred held from mortal sight, 

To the freed spirit is revealed in light. 

Here, ere Thou cam'st thy hidden ways to teach, 
My boasted wisdom was an idle dream, — 

Of all the countless joys my soul shall reach, 
My searching gaze can scarcely catch a gleam ; 

Yet I, confiding in thy truth, believe, 

What thou hast promised, that shall I receive. 

Mercy of God ! without or mark or bound, 

The heavens have not sufficient tongues to praise, 

Nor words of worth enough our thanks to sound 
For that thou lend'st thy light to guide our ways 

One single ray from thee outshineth far 

The sun and moon, and every glittering star. 

(Revelation xiv. 13.) 



HE year is but a quick succession of 
brief moments. Who is conscious of 
the infinitesimal part of life that is 
comprised within each of these infini- 

17 T 




386 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

tesimal periods of time, and which vanishes even 
while I am thinking of it ? When a year has 
elapsed, even this longer period, on looking back, 
seems to us but as a moment. It was here ; it is 
gone ; and it will never come again. 

The day passes speedily by. Another and an- 
other follows, and passes as quickly. The dura- 
tion of a moment is but that of the twinkling of 
an eye ; and what are weeks, months, and years 
other than a succession of such moments, which 
I comprise under one name ? 

In all things I find constant changes going 
on, and yet all, in fact, remain ever the same. 
Thousands and thousands of years ago, all was 
as it is now. The mutable is ever comprised in 
the immutable ; the fleeting in the enduring. I 
distinguish minutes, weeks, months. But it is 
only the human understanding that separates 
and makes distinctions, and applies different 
names. In reality, all are one and the same 
time. What I denominate the seasons are but the 
varying positions assumed towards the sun by the 
globe which I inhabit. Time is immutable. 

And though all things seem infinitely varied, 
nevertheless, one thing is but a consequence of 
another ; and each is intimately connected and 
identical with all. 

All things must, by the closest concatenation, 
be joined into one, for there is but one universe. 
There are not two universes differing in organiza- 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 387 

tion, or opposed to each other. There is but one 
God, whose wisdom and laws originated all exist- 
ence as a unity, as an integral, consisting of 
many integrant parts. 

Now if all things be but parts of a whole, and 
there be but one Creator of the whole, and each 
one thing be indestructibly linked to all others, 
how can you speak of time and eternity as if you 
were speaking of two distinct universes ? 

How senseless would it not be to suppose that 
the life we enjoy one day is distinct from that of 
the next, because the days are separated by the 
shadows of night. Who imagines because in 
autumn plants wither and return to dust and 
earth, that with the new spring, when vegeta- 
tion recommences, a new world, so to say, begins ! 
There is nothing different from what has been ; 
all is again the same as it was, eternally the 
same. 

Dost thou think that when the plant withers, 
and its dust is dispersed by the wind, the com- 
ponent parts of that which was a plant have been 
blown out of the universe, and have been reduced 
to absolute nothingness? Nay, whether united 
in a plant, or scattered as motes in a sunbeam, 
they are present and indestructible, irremovable 
from the universe of God. The hidden power 
of life, which combined this dust into verdant, 
blooming plants, also continues apart from the 
dust, and in winter as in summer works actively 



388 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

in the seeds, in the universe. When the sun of 
spring reproduces the conditions laid down by 
the Creator, according to which the vital force 
acts upor the elementary substances around it, 
this action recommences, and new plants germi- 
nate, and put forth buds and leaves and blos- 
soms. Thus every new thing is ever a reproduc- 
tion of the old; ever the same, however new it 
may appear to the eye of man. 

In the universe there is nothing new; and 
nothing old is annihilated. What we call new 
and old are mere distinctions, made by our un- 
derstanding, means to help our feeble powers of 
conception. In reality there is in nature nothing 
new and nothing old, for God's creation is eter- 
nal. It is only the relations of things to one an- 
other that change, and these changes are what 
we call temporal. Whether a flower withers 
and dies, and is dissolved into dust and vapor, 
or whether some world, inhabited by millions of 
beings, is destroyed and reduced to dust, it is the 
same thing. Neither the component parts of the 
flower nor of the world can escape from the uni- 
verse of God. It is only their relations to each 
other that have undergone a change. We make 
a difference between the flower and the world, 
because relatively to our bodies the one seems to 
us very small, the other immense ; but to the 
infinite and omnipresent God, nothing is small, 
and nothing is great. Therefore is the most insig- 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 389 

nificant worm and the most powerful of mortals 
on this earth of equal importance to him. His 
providence and his love embrace both alike, as 
being his creatures. 

We must beware not to persuade ourselves into 
believing that that which we can see with our 
limited sight, measure with our small standard, 
and comprehend with our restricted faculties, 
within our circumscribed sphere of life and space, 
is exactly such as we conceive it to be. We 
make distinctions where in nature, strictly speak- 
ing, none exist. To us, that which is invisible, 
and beyond the sphere of our comprehension on 
earth, is as if it were not. There is nothing what- 
soever extant on earth of which the elementary 
substances were not previously in the air, in the 
form of impalpable and invisible particles. The 
whole globe which we mortals inhabit has been 
formed out of components of the atmosphere. 
From the air water is precipitated ; from the 
air the plants receive their constituent elements ; 
from the air and the plants the animals receive 
theirs, and man his from all. Mountains, forests, 
oceans, &c. are all, as it were, children of the air, 
and may again be dissolved into air. All are one. 

All are one. Therefore are all things so closely 
linked together that the single links are often 
indistinguishable. In the eternal universe there 
is no yesterday and to-day, — these only exist for 
us mortals, who inhabit the little planet called the 



390 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

earth, which by revolving round the sun causes 
a fleeting alternation of light and shade, cold and 
heat, which we call days and seasons. In the 
eternal universe there is no beginning and no 
ending, but only a constant play of relations, 
and this is what we call life ; but eternal, as the 
things themselves, as all God's works, are also 
their varying relations to each other. Conse- 
quently there is an uninterrupted reticulation of 
life. The particular relations of certain parts may 
cease, but the substances or forces themselves 
can never cease to be ; and as little can the con- 
stant variations of relations, i. e. life, cease to be. 
That which seems to us as a beginning and an 
ending, as a blooming and fading, as morning and 
evening, that which we call birth and death, old 
and young, is only the varying play of the rela- 
tions of things in the universe, or the life of the 
creation. That which we call death is therefore 
in itself a confirmation of life, an act of life, and 
life itself! 

Time and eternity are the same to God. But 
they are likewise so to me. Why make this dis- 
tinction ? There is but one Eternal. After death 
I shall be in eternity, but I am already in it. 
After death I shall be with God ; but here below 
already I live and move and have my being in 
God. 

However, with that intensified vital action, 
which we call death, an active process of separa- 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 391 

tlon and renewed combination takes place in all 
my component parts. As in autumn the vital force 
leaves the withering plant, so in death the spirit- 
ual part of my being withdraws from the earthly 
part. That within me, which I call my real self, 
and which is capable of conceiving God, enters 
into combinations with other substances and things 
in the life-teeming universe. But my discarded 
body, which returns to dust, also continues in 
God's universe and enters into other combinations. 
And I, the God-conscious I, the conceiving and 
perceiving spirit, I also, like the dust of my body, 
shall continue through all eternity. 

Am I a different being to-day to what I was 
yesterday, because I have put on other garments ? 
No ; for though I may yesterday have worn an 
inferior dress, and to-day wear a better one, I am 
nevertheless the same being. And as little as the 
raiment which I wear forms part of myself, as 
little does the body form part of the spirit, which 
in death puts it off. But the same as I have been 
while clad in the body, the same shall I be after 
having entered into other combinations. For I 
am and remain the same spirit, in like manner as 
my body remains the same dust. 

Consequently, from the brief space of time 
which we call earthly life, I pass over into the 
higher or lower, happier or unhappier relations 
into which I may hereafter enter, a worthy or 
unworthy spirit, according as I may have proved 



392 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

myself in this world. And thus are fulfilled the 
words of Scripture : " Their works do follow 
them." 

" Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
from henceforth ; Yea, saith the Snirit, that they 
may have rest from their labors ; and their works 
do follow them." (Rev. xiv. 13.) 

Our works do follow us, because between time 
and eternity there is an intimate and indissoluble 
connection ; more intimate indeed than that be- 
tween the drops of the sea and the sea itself. 
The whole system of created things is but one ; 
and therefore living in time, I am living in eter- 
nity ; and living in this world, I am living in the 
universe, my Father's house, in which I shall live 
forevermore ; for the connection between the unit 
and the all, of which it forms an integral part, can 
never be dissevered. 

I know that this indissoluble connection between 
time and eternity exists, because, not only is the 
smallest mote dancing in a sunbeam imperishable, 
but so likewise is my self-conscious spirit, which 
aspires towards perfection. Things change, yet 
endure. The circumstances that surround me 
vary, but I ever remain in the midst of the infi- 
nite vital action of the universe. Now if my soul 
is imperishable, and ever retains its identity, how 
can the connection between to-day and to-mor- 
row, between the here and the hereafter, between 
time and eternity, ever be interrupted ? I know 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 393 

that the connection exists, because there is but 
one God, who has ordained all things, who encom- 
passes all things, who created all things perfect, 
not as fragments and disjointed parts, but as the 
intimately connected and closely interwoven parts 
of a whole, infinitely harmonious in all its causes 
and effects. And God is my God to-day, as he 
will be my God when the circumstances of this 
life no longer surround me, but I shall have en- 
tered into other relations and connections. 

Therefore blessed are the dead who die in the 
Lord, for their works do follow them. They jfo?- 
fow/them, for in the great concatenation of things 
there are no missing links, no interruptions. One 
thing proceeds from another ; as in the smallest, 
so in the greatest ; as in earthly, so in moral and 
spiritual matters. Whether thou risest or thou 
fallest, thou takest the place thou hast prepared 
for thyself; nothing that is done can be undone. 
Thy works do follow thee. 

There are degraded human beings, very little 
removed from the brutes, who lack the energy to 
develop any of their indwelling spiritual capaci- 
ties. They aspire to nothing better than to be 
animals, and to satisfy their animal desires. What 
they hear said about virtue (conformity to the 
eternal laws of God) seems to them irrational 
and absurd, or at least they wish to think it so. 
To be clad in costly apparel, to recline upon soft 
couches, to live in grand houses, tc feast on dainty 
17* 



394 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

viands, to drink the best wines, to enjoy ample 
"pecuniary means, to have the power to oppress 
others and to tower high above them, to possess 
much worldly knowledge, to be able to calculate 
cunningly, and to be irresistible in action, — in a 
word, to be a kind of perfect animal, such is their 
highest ambition. Of more exalted things they 
have no conception, so utterly degraded are they. 
If you tell them that it is their duty to sacrifice 
all earthly things for the good of their souls, for 
the acquisition of true nobleness of spirit, they 
look upon you as insane. 

Such men as these (in their innermost hearts 
they are generally unhappy) are very much in- 
clined, if they cannot deny the Creator, or refuse 
to see him in his creation, at least to deny the 
eternal, all-pervading laws of virtue. They 
would fain persuade themselves that God takes 
no heed of our actions, that piety and goodness 
are inventions of the schools, mere prejudices 
instilled in childhood, and intended to keep people 
in due subjection to their rulers. That which is 
useful they deem expedient, and that which is ex- 
pedient they consider wise and good. Whatever 
is for their worldly advantage they pronounce 
right ; what injures them is, in their eyes, wrong ; 
and they hold all means justifiable which enable 
them to attain their end. 

Nevertheless they are dismayed when they per- 
ceive, that though there are various religions in 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 395 

the world, yet virtue is the same among all nations. 
There is consequently something stable and un- 
varying in the human spirit, which relates to its 
destiny, its mode of thinking and acting, and ac- 
cording to which it judges itself, and is judged by 
others. Virtue (which is conformity to the will 
of God) is consequently not a shifting, accidental 
thing. A pious and righteous man is honored in 
all countries, by civilized and uncivilized nations, 
and he is trusted far more than are shrewd and 
clever men. On the other hand, a selfish villain, 
without faith or belief, who puts no restraint upon 
himself, is detested by all. Thus it is now, and 
thus it was thousands of years ago. State con- 
stitutions, church ceremonies, languages, customs, 
science, ideas as to what is useful and what is in- 
jurious, have altered ; but the laws of God in the 
sphere of the spiritual, the laws and ideas relating 
to piety and virtue, are as old as the human race 
itself. Virtue is as indispensable to the immortal, 
spirit as food is to the mortal body. Withdraw 
all nourishment from the body, and it perishes ; 
withdraw virtue from the spirit, and it perishes. 

If righteousness be but an accidental thing, if it 
be not in immediate connection with the nature of 
the spirit, why is it that even the boldest decriers 
of virtue are frequently reluctant to commit ac- 
tual crimes, independently of any fear of punish- 
ment in this world ? Why is it that there are 
things which they dare not do ? Or why is it 



396 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

that when they do perpetrate bad deeds, they 
would fain, if they could, conceal them even from 
themselves ? 

Virtue is but the perfection of the spirit, its 
mature development in regard to its destmation 
in the universe. The dying sinner is therefore 
an immature yet rotting fruit on the great tree of 
life. Virtue, or perfection of the spirit, is, how- 
ever, nothing more than its self-emancipation 
from the trammels of the earthly nature con- 
nected with it, — its emancipation from the ani- 
mal instincts, its self-government according to its 
own inward and eternal law of right, and of obe- 
dience to God; a rising from animal nature to 
angelic nature. Virtue is the spirit's self-eleva- 
tion to glory. 

It is not, therefore, skill in art or handicraft, nor 
the power of cleverly calculating events and turn- 
ing circumstances to account, nor deep learning, 
nor extensive knowledge, that constitute true 
greatness of soul, but piety and virtue ! That 
which is useful to the world in which we are at 
present living will remain here when we quit it. 
It was derived from this world, was suited for it, 
and will remain in it. But the virtue which sac- 
rifices life and all earthly goods to carry out the 
will of God, the virtue that abstains from the 
things of this world, is not meant to remain in 
this world, and is often in antagonism with it : it 
is not of this earth, earthy, for it is in conflict with 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 397 

all that is earthly, and conquers the power of the 
world. Virtue, consequently, belongs exclusively 
to the spirit; and it is the source of those holy 
works which follow the righteous. 

The virtue that denies the world does not be- 
long to the here, but to the hereafter. It is not 
born of this earth, but comes from God. Its 
effects are therefore not limited to this world, but 
extend through all eternity. All else may be re- 
warded on earth ; but virtue in itself is above all 
reward. And whatever is done for the sake of 
reward, is not virtue, but an act of earthly expe- 
diency. The righteous do not act for the sake of 
the profit to be derived in this world ; their eyes 
are fixed on eternity. They aspire after perfec- 
tion, after life in God, and with God. Thus they 
live, and thus they sleep away in the Lord, with- 
out any thought of the pains and pleasures, the 
praise or blame of this world. " Blessed are the 
dead who die in the Lord, for their works do 
follow them." 

It is the hand of the Almighty and Everlasting 
God that has linked together time and eternity ; 
where, then, is the power that can deny or de- 
stroy this evident and indisputable connection ? 

My heart thrills with pleasure at the thought 
which Jesus, the holy Revealer of God, has so dis- 
tinctly expressed ! Time and eternity are one, 
my here and my hereafter form an uninterrupted 
whole, as surely as there is but one universe, and 
one God, and that my works do follow me. 



398 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 

Blessed, ah, blessed am I, for I will and shall 
die in the Lord ! For who can separate me from 
the love of God ? 

Blessed, ah, blessed are they who die in the 
Lord, for their works do follow them ! O my be- 
loved ones who early departed this life, leaving 
me behind, you are enjoying the happier lot to- 
wards which I am still striving ; never did I feel 
so strongly the connection between life and eter- 
nity, as when I stood weeping by the side of your 
pallid corpses, as when I kissed with burning lips 
your clay-cold cheeks. Ye died in the Lord and 
are blessed. Ye belonged to God, and therefore 
he called you to him. Alas ! he knew and saw 
what I did not. He witnessed how often ye had 
struggled with yourselves in secret ; how repent- 
ant ye were when ye had committed even the 
smallest fault ! How trustfully ye looked up to 
him ! How ye communed with him in earnest 
prayer. Now ye have overcome, and your piety, 
your innocence, your goodness, your love, do fol- 
low you. With forgiving tenderness the merciful 
Judge looked down upon those errors which his 
children knew not how to avoid. Ye are not 
the least of those whom he has taken into his 
fatherly heart, he who allows not even the worst 
of sinners to be lost. 

Why does my soul sorrow for the dead ? O ye 
blessed ones ! I also shall one day, and perhaps 
very soon, throw off my earthly covering, as ye 



LIFE AND ETERNITY. 399 

have thrown off yours, and shall, like you, be 
clad in more glorious raiment. We shall meet 
again, we shall be reunited. Love, like virtue, is 
eternal ; for God is love. Similar to the connec- 
tion between life and eternity is that which exists 
between loving spirits. I have not entirely lost 
you, ye dear ones, whom the Lord hath given, 
and whom he hath taken away. Nay, he hath 
given you to me, not taken you away ; for even 
to this day we belong to each other. We are all 
still dwelling in the house of our Father, though 
in different mansions. I am living in eternity as 
are ye, only ye have entered into new relations 
and connections, which await me also. Life on 
earth is but a fleeting moment, but eternity en- 
dures, and throughout eternity we shall be with 
each other. 

Blessed, yea, blessed are they who die in the 
Lord, for their works do follow them, and mine 
also will follow me ! 

O God of life, Judge of the dead ! O merciful 
Saviour of sinners ! my works also will follow me, 
the evil as the good ! I look back with dismay at 
my past life. How often I may have erred, I do 
not even know. Lord, Lord, wilt thou remember 
my offences ? When thou enterest into judgment 
with me, how shall I stand before thee ? The 
good that was in me was but feebly sustained by 
my will, and, alas ! it was often set at naught 
by frivolity, thoughtlessness, or passion, while 



400 LIFE AND ETERNITY. 

vanity frequently detracted from the merit of 
my best deeds. How often have I been failing 
in love, how often in perseverance, how often in 
meekness and humility. 

Save me, O Lord, from "the painful discourage- 
ment which takes possession of me when I think 
of my shortcomings and my errors, and of all in 
which, whether it be in secret or in public, I have 
offended against thee and against my fellow-men ; 
for through my own strength alone I shall never 
attain to that which I ought to be, in accordance 
with thy will and with the teachings of Jesus. 
Could I not place my hope and my trust in thy 
mercy, I should be disconsolate indeed at the 
thought of the future, and of the change that 
must come over me in death ! 

But thou, O Merciful God, art my comfort and 
my trust ! Accept my will for half the deed, my 
endeavors for half success, my conflicts for half 
the victory. Forgive me my trespasses ! Thou 
knowest how often I try to lift myself up, though 
I fall back each time in helpless impotence ! 

But perhaps life is but one long struggle against 
evil, and that he may find mercy before thee who 
has had courage enough not to shrink from the 
combat, but to carry it on to the best of his power. 

And I will never weary in this struggle after 
perfection. As thy soldier I will die, full of faith, 
and full of hope in thy mercy, O Father, who 
ever granteth more than we deserve. Amen. 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 



What, then, is mine 1 What life of bliss ? 

What quickening stream my dust flows through "? 
O'er all my limbs what glow is this % 

Is it my frame 1 — I live anew ? 
Can it be 1 1 Are these my veins 1 

This Godlike glory, is it mine 1 
I am not bound in death's cold chains ? 

Who calls 1 Whose throne doth yonder shine ? 
Ah ! it is God, — my trust, — my own, — 
Messiah, it is thou alone ! 

O Lord, thy truth it faileth never, 
For life renewed I thank thee ever. 

In Revelation's light I soar. 
All hail ! My foe subdued doth lie, 
Death swallowed up in victory, 

And in the dust I rest no more. 
Hail, Lord ! All honor, might, are thine ! 

Saviour ! from thee my life doth spring. 
The angel choir I haste to join, 

And loudest hallelujahs sing. 



(1 Cor. xv. 36-50.) 



F I possess the right of citizenship in 
two worlds ; if I belong not only to 
the life here below, but shall hereafter, 
and perhaps soon, belong to a higher 
life also ; O then it cannot be wrong for me to 
dwell at times on that which I have to look for- 




402 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

ward to, and which is ever drawing me towards 
itself by a feeling of indefinite longing. It is as 
great a satisfaction to me to occupy my thoughts 
with the memory of the dear ones that have been 
separated from me by death, as it is to cultivate in- 
tercourse with those who still surround me in life, 
and are the joy of my existence. For the former 
also are still alive, though no longer abiding in 
earthly form. Though the body perish, the spirit 
lives. I still love you, ye distant ones, and can I 
doubt that ye still love me ? Nay, spirits whom 
God hath united, no man can put asunder, neither 
can the grave. 

It is true, that as to what will be my lot, and 
what I myself shall be on the other side the grave, 
I am left in ignorance ; but it cannot be wrong 
that I should from time to time occupy my imagi- 
nation with the subject ; that I should endeavor, 
by comparison with what Inexperience here below, 
to divine what may take place hereafter. Here 
we live as yet by faith, not by sight. But even 
Jesus spoke in sublime images of the supersensu- 
ous state into which we shall enter after the death 
of the body. His disciples also loved to dwell 
upon the subject with their followers, or with 
those among them who entertained doubts as to 
the possibility of a resurrection of the dead. 

The doctrine of the resurrection of the body 
had long been accepted among the Jews. The 
Pharisees taught it, but in a coarse and sensuous 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. . 403 

form, maintaining that the same flesh that is con- 
signed to the grave was again necessarily to clothe, 
and to become the vehicle of, the spirit, — an 
opinion which was strongly opposed by the Sad- 
ducees, another Jewish sect. When called upon 
to pronounce as to which of the two conflicting 
opinions was correct, Christ showed that both 
the Jewish sects were in error on this point ; and 
that immortality, or life in the world beyond the 
grave, or resurrection after death, would take 
place without the necessity for a corporeal resur- 
rection, in the coarsely sensual sense in which 
they understood it ; namely, that the soul required 
a body to be provided, as before, with all the 
earthly instincts necessary for its preservation and 
propagation. The Sadducees felt the truth of 
his words, and exclaimed, " Master, thou hast 
well said!" (Luke xx. 27-39.) 

That which Jesus but rarely touched upon in 
public, he seems to have developed more fully 
in his confidential communings with his disciples ; 
for we find that they entertained the same views 
as he did as to the state of the spirit after death, 
and as to the Jewish doctrine of the resurrection. 
" Thou fool," says St. Paul, " that which thou 
sowest is not quickened unless it die ; and that 
which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body 
that shall be, but bare grain. It is sown a natural 
body ; it is raised a spiritual body. Flesh and 
blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; neither 



404 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

doth corruption inherit incorruption." (1 Cor. 
xv. 36-50.) The human body, composed of 
earthly substances, will return to earth. It is not 
capable of eternal life ; being corruptible, it can- 
not inherit the incorruptible. It will rise from 
the dead a spiritual body ; that is to say, when our 
earthly members separate from our higher self, 
this latter will rise with greater freedom above 
that which is dead, and as if transfigured or glori- 
fied, will be encompassed by a spiritual covering 
or body. 

This doctrine, embodied in the Holy Scriptures 
as it was conceived in the spirit of Jesus and his 
disciples, is in wonderful harmony with what we 
discern here below as to the nature of man. It 
is unmistakable that the spirit, while dwelling 
in the earthly body, is endued with a spiritual 
body, which is freed at the death of the former, 
and comes forth, as it were, as the blossom dees 
from the seed. 

Death is sometimes figuratively called the 
brother of sleep. And in reality it is so. Sleep 
is the retirement of the spirit and the soul within 
themselves, — a withdrawal, so to say, from the 
outward, coarser parts of the body. The same 
takes place in death. In sleep, however, the 
outward members of the flesh, though abandoned 
by our higher self, continue to be animated by 
the plant-life. Man lies there insensible, but the 
blood still flows through the veins ; the lungs still 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 405 

breathe ; all that is essential for the continuance 
of his plant-like life is in full activity, in the same 
manner as in the insensible flower or tree. This 
retirement of the spiritual part of man at regular 
intervals seems to be necessary for the preserva- 
tion of the earthly part, as this would otherwise 
by constant use be, as it were, worn out and ren- 
dered less efficient as an instrument of the spirit. 
If the plant-like life of the human body be left to 
go on unchecked by the activity of the spirit, it 
works more uninterruptedly, according to its own 
laws, and thus acquires new strength. Therefore 
it is that after every healthy sleep, we find that 
the body is refreshed and the mind cheered. In 
death, however, even the plant-life abandons the 
substances of which the body is composed, and 
which are held together by this force alone, and 
in consequence they decay. 

Spirit and soul may, on the other hand, have 
abandoned the body, without the latter being ap- 
parently dead, though real death may be truly 
said to have taken place when the better part of 
man has left it. But the body breathes, its pulses 
beat ; and it is said of the man : he is still alive. 
At other times it may happen that the vital power 
withdraws from certain parts of the body, and 
that these die, as it were, while the spirit and the 
soul still remain united with the other parts. 

Sleep is one of the greatest mysteries connected 
with human life, and well worthy of our closest 



406 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

and most intelligent observation. But this obser- 
vation is rendered doubly difficult by the fact, 
that the observing spirit is, in regard to the mat- 
ters to be taken cognizance of, subject to the laws 
of corporeal nature, and must allow these to act 
without disturbance, in order that they may be 
restored and strengthened for its use. Sleep may 
be said to be the nourishment of the vital force. 
The spirit contributes nothing to this. The vital 
force is as independent of it as is the digestive 
process which converts the food of the body into 
blood, or as is the growth of the hair, or the vari- 
ous secretions that take place in the body. When 
we are awake, the vital force is consumed, it flows 
out and acts outwardly; when we are asleep, it is 
gathered in from without. Therefore, as you will 
observe, not only men and animals sleep, but also 
plants, — they close their calyxes, or fold and 
hang their leaves, when night sets in. 

But what is the state of our higher self during 
its retirement from the outward senses ? It can no 
longer receive impressions from without through 
eye or ear, through taste, or smell, or sensation. 
But shall we therefore say that the spirit is anni- 
hilated during those moments ? Were this so, 
then our bodies would each morning belong to 
another spirit, another soul. But the spirit is 
perfectly conscious that it is ever the same, that 
it is no other to-day than it was yesterday. 
Though concentrated within itself, and with- 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 407 

drawn from the world of sense, and in conse- 
quence deprived for the time of the mediums 
through which it communicates with the outer 
world, the spirit lives and is active. 

Dreams are a proof of the continued activity 
of the spirit during sleep. At whatever hour we 
may be awakened out of sleep, we are conscious 
of having dreamt, or when this is not the case, it 
is because the remembrance of the dream is oblit- 
erated by the strong impressions which are pro- 
duced on the sudden reawakening of the senses. 
And though on such occasions we may have no 
distinct recollection of our dreams, we have, 
nevertheless, a clear impression that on being 
awakened we have to turn our attention forcibly 
away from what was inwardly occupying it, to 
the outward objects which then lay claim to it. 

In our dreams we are conscious of perceptions, 
desires, and feelings ; but the outward senses be- 
ing, as it were, closed, the spiritual activity goes 
on independently of outward objects. It rarely 
leaves a strong and lasting impression on the 
memory ; nevertheless, it has taken place. Spirit 
and soul are consequently active, even though we 
may not afterwards be able to remember the na- 
ture of their activity. Indeed, who can remem- 
ber all the countless but fleeting ideas, that rise 
in the mind every moment of the day? But 
would we, therefore, maintain that our spirit, at 
the very time when it was perhaps most active 
and reflective, had no ideas ? 



408 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

In dreams, the self-consciousness of the spirit, 
that is to say, its knowledge of its own existence, 
is exactly the same as in waking life. In dream- 
ing, as when awake, it distinguishes itself from the 
objects of its perception. Without this self-con- 
sciousness, without this insulation, so to say, of 
the ego from the images of its own conceptions, it 
could not dream. Whenever we are able to re- 
call to mind a past dream, we shall find that it 
was our ego which, with full consciousness of itself, 
lived and moved among the creations of its imagi- 
nation. We may forget the various details of a 
dream, and even the entire dream, during which 
the impressions produced by the spirit on the 
sleeping body, through desires and feelings, were 
not very strong ; consequently we may also forget 
that the spirit was conscious of itself during the 
interval ; but it does not follow from this that our 
self-consciousness, the spirit's knowledge of its 
own identity and existence, has for a moment 
ceased! There are persons who, even when 
merged in deep thought during their waking 
hours, become perfectly unconscious of what is 
going on around them. The mind, withdrawn 
from the outward parts of the body and the senses, 
is concentrated in itself, and occupied with itself 
alone ; to all appearance these persons, at such 
moments, seem to be dreaming or sleeping with 
open eyes. But who will deny that, during these 
periods of deep thought, they are fully conscious 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 409 

of themselves, though they hear not with their 
ears and see not with their eyes ? The very fact 
that we are able, when we are determined so to 
do, to awaken ourselves from sleep at a fixed 
hour, is another proof in favor of the continuance 
of our self-consciousness, and of the consciousness 
of our existence. 

We cannot therefore say of a person, whether 
in light slumber or in deep sleep, that he has lost 
consciousness, for he retains the knowledge of his 
own existence, though he does not make it known 
to us. The spirit never loses the consciousness 
of its own being, and the soul never loses the 
consciousness of its identity, although when they 
return to the sphere of the outward senses, they 
may have lost the remembrance of having retained 
this in their sleeping state. The same takes place 
during a swoon, when in consequence of the par- 
tial and temporary disturbance of the plant-life, 
the spiritual part of man withdraws into itself; 
for the spirit shuns what is dead, and is only 
bound to substances which are in themselves life- 
less by the bond of the vital force. Although a 
person in a swoon gives no sign of self-conscious- 
ness, he is, nevertheless, as little without it as 
when asleep. Indeed, many persons on recover- 
ing from a swoon remember ideas which have 
occupied them during the period of apparent life- 
lessness, just as many, on awaking from sleep, 
remember their dreams, while others do not. 

18 



410 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

'Nay, there are physical conditions, such, for in- 
stance, as those of catalepsy, during which the 
body presents a pale, cold, breathless, motionless, 
rigid appearance, like that of a corpse ; while the 
spirit, nevertheless, remains in connection with 
some of the senses, and is perfectly cognizant of 
all that goes on around it, but is unable to give 
the slightest outward sign of life or consciousness. 
There is another remarkable condition incident 
to human nature, which convinces us of the unin- 
terrupted activity of the spirit, and of its never- 
ceasing consciousness, even during periods of 
which it subsequently loses the remembrance. I 
allude to the condition of the sleep-walker. He 
falls, to all appearances, into the ordinary state of 
sleep. His outward senses are closed. He hears 
not, sees not, feels not. Suddenly he seems to 
awake, not out of sleep, but in it. He hears, but 
not with his ears ; he sees, but not with his eyes ; 
he feels, but not through the skin. He walks, 
he speaks, he performs various acts, and, to the 
utter astonishment of the spectators, often with 
greater skill and precision than he would be 
capable of when awake. In this state he has a 
vivid recollection of the events which have taken 
place during his waking life, and not unfrequently, 
indeed, of occurrences which entirely escape his 
memory when his senses are fully awake. After 
having remained in this state for some time, he 
again sinks into ordinary sleep, and when at length 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 4H 

he rouses himself from this, he is perfectly uncon- 
scious of everything that has taken place. He 
has forgotten what he said and what he did, and 
often finds it impossible to believe what those who 
have seen his sleep-walking tell him. But can 
we deny that his spirit has been self-conscious, 
and wonderfully active, during that sleep ? When 
the somnambulist falls again into that state of out- 
ward sleeping and inward waking, he remembers 
while in this condition, which even to himself is 
incomprehensible, all that he did, and thought, 
when previously in it, and of which, when his 
outward senses are awake, he knows nothing. 

How is this to be explained ? How is it that 
when asleep, when the outward senses are, so to 
say, closed, we nevertheless, in such cases as the 
one just alluded to, can hear and see not only as 
well, but better than when awake ? It is because 
the body is nothing more than the outward shell 
or covering of the spirit ; because in itself the 
body, independently of the soul, possesses neither 
the power of sensation nor perception, the eye of 
the soulless body being as sightless as that of a 
marble statue. It is consequently the soul, and 
the soul alone, that feels, sees, and hears what is 
going on outwardly. The eye, the ear, &c. are 
only special arrangements in the fleshly covering, 
skilfully adapted for conveying impressions from 
the outer world to the soul. There are, however, 
instances, as we have seen, in which the gross 



412 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

bodily covering being diseased, and having become 
injured in some way, the soul, as it were, comes 
forth from it, and continues its activity without 
the aid of the outward senses. In these cases it 
also acts upon an entirely different set of nerves 
than when the body is in its ordinary waking 
state ; and through the increased vegetative force 
in these, it carries on its action against that which 
is in itself lifeless in man. 

The soul is consequently the sensitive organ, 
not the body, and is therefore the true and real 
body of the spirit, and the body is only its out- 
ward framework, its shell and covering. Now, 
as we know from numerous instances and experi- 
ences that the activity and self-consciousness of 
the spirit never cease, not even during the 
moments in respect to which it may not be able 
to remember having been self-conscious; as we 
know, that when engaged in deep meditation the 
spirit may become unconscious of its own body 
and of all outward circumstances, or in certain 
diseases may be capable of acting on the members 
of the body, or, as in cases of somnambulism, is 
even capable of entirely dispensing with the aid 
of the bodily senses : there is no difficulty in con- 
ceiving how the immortal spirit, even after having 
entirely thrown off its gross and perishable body, 
can retain its self-consciousness and the feeling of 
its identity, though it can no longer manifest itself 
through the medium of the body to those who 



GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 413 

are still living in the flesh ! We are thus able 
to conceive what is the spiritual body of which 
St. Paul speaks ; what is the incorruption which 
is to rise out of corruption ; what is the weakness 
that falls off, or is sown in the grave, and is raised 
in power, and soars towards heaven, being mature 
for the better life. (1 Cor. xv. 43.) This, then, 
is the glorification after death ; this is the spiritual 
resurrection. That which is born of the earth 
must return to the earth ; but the spirit, invested 
with the glorified body, bears the image of the 
heavenly, as it has borne the image of the earthly. 
(1 Cor. xv. 49.) The fleshly body, given over 
to corruption in the grave, feels no more ; but in 
reality it has never felt through itself alone. It 
was the spiritual body, that is} the soul, which in 
truth felt and perceived; and it will continue to 
do so even though dissevered from its earthly 
shell. Its power of feeling and perception will 
indeed be enhanced ; and the spirit, continuing 
its self-conscious life in the spiritual body, will 
still see the glory of God in his creation, and will 
recognize and love the beings it loved before. 
But it will no longer have sensual or earthly 
wants and desires, and it will know no tears ; 
it will bear the image of the heavenly from 
whence it descends. 

What shall I feel, when thou callest me, O my 
Creator, my God ! When the time of my glori- 
fication shall arrive ; when my living friends are 



414 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 

weeping around me ; when my glorified dear ones 
are drawing nigh ; and my heart blesses all with 
equal love ! When I shall appear before thee, sanc- 
tified through Jesus Christ, and having become a 
partaker of his kingdom, I will seek him and will 
fall down before thee, O Lord, and pray 
to thee with increased thankfulness, 
with deeper reverence and awe, 
that my immortal spirit may 
ever ripen to great- 
er perfection in 
every virtue ! 
Amen. 




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